None So Savage
by charlottestark
Summary: Amely Greyjoy was young - too young - when her father failed at a rebellion. She was given to the Starks in place of her younger brother, Theon. Her foster parents treated her as a child of their own, until she is forced to leave. Years passed, and Amely finds herself back in Winterfell, where she discovers that things have changed. Especially her feelings for Robb Stark. AURobb/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except Amely. GRRM owns all the GOT characters and settings.**

**Author's Note: This is a work that I am reposting with some minor changes to the plot and the dialogue. The first few chapters should remain generally the same, but I decided that I didn't quite like where I had gone with the characters previously. **

**Enjoy!**

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**Prologue**

Balon Greyjoy, the "King" of the Iron Islands, was the laughingstock of Westeros. He hoped to rally the other major lords in an attempt to unseat Robert Baratheon from the Iron Throne. He failed to do so. As retribution for his acts of treason against the crown, Lord Greyjoy was required to give up his youngest boy as a hostage. Since Theon Greyjoy was just an infant and also his only surviving heir, Balon opted to give up his youngest daughter, Amely. King Robert agreed to this negotiation. Amely was taken from her home as a young child and given to the Starks of the frigid North.

Ned and Catelyn Stark took her in and loved her as though she were one of their own.

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**Chapter 1: Bran's POV**

"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."

The words had been flowing through his mind since the scene before him unfolded. He can't make himself call the act beheading, rather the King's Justice. It makes a horrific act seem more honorable.

One day, his lord father had told him, Bran would have a castle of his own and he would be Robb's best bannerman.

That's why he was asked to join his father today. The King's Justice.

No one would tell Bran the truth about the man they were about to behead. Robb, in what was probably meant to be a scary voice, claimed that the man was a wildling who ran south from the White Walkers.

Jon's story seemed the most truthful; he was simply a deserter from the Night's Watch.

The man laid before their father was wearing the black wool of the Night's Watch, but he swore until his last breath that the White Walkers were coming for them all. The whole situation confused Bran. He'd had always been told that the men of the Night's Watch would never lie; they were too honorable. Could he have been telling truth? Who was his father to decide whether it was the truth or not?

* * *

Bran was in a daze for most of the ride back to Winterfell. Jon had told him not to look away from the scene for his father would know. Now the vision of the man's head rolling away from his body was all that Bran could picture.

He would've stayed in the daze if his horse hadn't begun to pull back from the group - becoming skittish at nothing. Bran glanced around to find that several other's horses were doing the same.

Once the horses had fully stopped and the men silent, the wailing could finally be heard. The armed men slowly drew their swords. The cries were that of only one woman, but they can't be too careful in the wildling country.

Bran watched as his father and brothers quietly dismounted their horses without acknowledging him. Too small to gracefully get off the pony and unsure of what to do, he jumped from the saddle in an attempt to follow his family. He managed to land on a particularly dry twig - an event which could have been prevented if anyone had bothered to help him down.

The snap reverberated through the trees in an astonishingly loud way. Both Robb and Jon looked ready to kill their younger brother, but their father shushed them.

The cries had stopped, and were replaced with the sound of the mystery woman running away. Bran was rather disappointed in himself.

As the group of older men approached the clearing, Bran could hear each member of the group questioning something ahead of them. His curiosity soared over his disappointment. It wasn't until the group spread to surround the item in question that Bran saw the animal.

"It's a freak!" Theon assumed that it was just an overgrown dog, but Bran knew better. His father knelt next to the massive animal.

"It's a direwolf. Tough old beast," His father said as he ripped the antler from her neck. A new stream of blood exited with it.

"A woman did this?" Theon had always taken a special interest in matters that concerned women. Bran could tell that the thought of a woman who could take down such a powerful beast was exciting to the other boy. Theon was particularly impressed when Ned handed him the heavy, blood-soaked antler.

A few yips and the growl of a small animal drew everyone's attention to the belly of the enormous direwolf. Jon knelt beside the enormous animal and stood up with two direwolf pups in his hands. Even Jon looked shocked to be holding the animals.

"There are no direwolves south of the Wall." Robb spoke as though he didn't see the beast before them. Jon handed him the two pups.

"And now there are five. You want to hold it?" Jon replied, handing Bran another pup.

"I'm surprised she lived long enough to whelp," his father said.

"Maybe she didn't," Jory Cassel, the head of Winterfell's security, theorized, "I've heard tales… maybe she was already dead when the pups came."

"Born with the dead. The worst luck," someone from the back of the group mentioned.

"Where will they go? Their mother's dead." Bran was genuinely concerned for the small pups. He knew that there was something mythical about these wolves, like they were sent specially for the Stark family to find. Ser Cassel didn't seem to agree.

"They don't belong down here. Better a quick death." Theon and Jory both drew their daggers, Jory placing his to the throat of one pup.

"No, no, no, stop!"

No one had seen the young woman who had come bursting from the brush beside Jon. She was holding one hand out to stop Ser Cassel and a ruddy colored pup in the other. But the second she made her presence known, the armed men of the group visibly tensed - more so than they already were.

Bran immediately turned to his father, hoping that this strange woman would convince him to let them keep the animals. It was a selfish thought, he knew, but he could not watch anything else die that day.

In the few seconds of tense silence, his father's stern facial expression turned from the grim face of the Lord of Winterfell to the confused face of Ned Stark. Bran turned back to the girl, only to notice that she was breathing more heavily and paler than a moment before. It took a moment for Bran to realize what had happened.

Upon first glance, the pup in her arms was white with rusty spots of red. But when Bran saw how much of the girl's blood was leaking from the side she was holding the pup on, he knew the animal's coat was stained. The spots were growing larger every second. He wondered if anyone else had put the pieces together.

"A wildling, my lord." Jory Cassel pointed out, like it was something they couldn't glean from her attire.

Noble women of the North didn't wear pants, certainly not breeches of white fur. There simply weren't white animals to take them from. This girl was from much further north than Winterfell.

It was then that he noticed her face and how similar she looked to Theon. They had the same full lips, which Theon always claimed to make his women swoon. Though her shoulder-length hair was muddy and ratted, Bran could tell they also had the same sandy color. The girl was rather hunched over, whether in pain or fear, but he could tell they were nearly the same body type.

Those weren't the only striking things about her appearance. She was nearly blue in paleness and the clothing on her right side was shiny with blood that had soaked through. Bran wasn't sure if she'd paled in nervousness or from losing blood, but he was sure that her entire life depended on this moment. It was just a matter of whether his father decided to take mercy upon the girl in front of him.

Considering the events of the day, it didn't seem likely.

"Father, she's injured. She'll die soon." Jon was standing the closest to her; he could tell the extent of her injuries. Bran couldn't tell if the words Jon spoke were a death sentence or a plea for her life.

At the sound of Jon's voice, the pup leapt from her arms and ran to him. The action caused to her sway slightly in place. She also winced.

Only his father must have picked up on how little a threat she was. While the rest of the men remained tense, Ned remained calm. He'd even lowered his sword. Bran watched her face as her eyes followed the blood-stained pup to the feet of his half-brother. Her eyes traveled up to his face and a look of confusion crossed her features - much like his father. She seemed to know Jon, even if only vaguely.

Bran had never met Jon's mother, not that Jon had either. Everyone knew how alike his father and half-brother looked. The girl must have thought the same because her eyes began drifting from person to person until she found their father. She began to visibly shake upon seeing the Lord of Winterfell, who looked oddly emotional for a man of his position.

Robb, obviously not handling the intense silence well, mumbled something to get their father's attention. He only received a side glance before his father continued his intense stare at the girl. She was staring right back at him. It wasn't the stare of defiance that he would expect from a less-than-subtle wildling, but a stare of deep sorrow.

After a few moments, the girl crumbled to her knees and lowered her gaze to the ground again. She opened her mouth to speak, but his father stopped her with his own voice.

"Amely."

Judging by the sharp turns of Theon, Jon, and Robb's heads towards their father, Bran knew that something important was happening. Something that he didn't understand.

The whimper from the girl's mouth was all the warning they got before she fell unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except for Amely. All characters and settings are owned by GRRM.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 2: Amely's POV**

Every breath, every expansion of her chest felt more painful than the last. Her veins were pumping acid. Her calves ached and her feet screamed.

She had to keep running.

Running from the pain - running from those men - running to survive.

Long ago, her mother had taught her how to breathe for running long distances.

No one had taught her how to breathe with a bleeding gash on her ribs.

Even her companion, a pregnant direwolf named Luna, couldn't run for much longer.

They stopped after stumbling into an icy stream. The water would wash away any familiar scents and the hounds should lose them.

She only hoped the hounds would lose them.

Her "brothers". They didn't act brotherly when they'd learned she was highborn-turned-wildling. There aren't many of the Free Folk who can say they've had a noble girl and still speak the truth. The men she'd once loved decided to make it the truth.

_"Not without a fight,"_ she'd thought when one of them came at her with a blade. He'd nearly gotten what he sought after cutting along a rib on her right side with extreme precision.

_"The Free Folk may not flay people alive, but we know how to wound a person."_

She silently cursed herself for thinking "we". She had to abandon any ties to the Free Folk if she was going to survive.

After making sure they weren't being followed and there wasn't much for civilization in the area, she made a temporary home in the clearing along the stream. She attempted to rest on her uninjured side.

Amely often thought about how she'd ended up in the custody of the Free Folk.

Looking back, the reason she'd left her highborn life wasn't really a reason at all.

She was around the same age as Robb and Jon, maybe a year or two younger, when she was brought to Winterfell. The boys immediately loved her as a sister - a blessing for their parents. Constantly being around them made Amely more interested in swordplay than the dolls Lady Catelyn had tried to force upon her.

Ned was loving towards her, as was his wife, but she could always tell that his guilt about her situation bothered him.

The fateful day of her departure had been much like any other day. The children were playing with wooden swords in the courtyard, as they frequently did. Lady Catelyn watched on from the balcony above - her belly swollen with their second child. She showed all the symptoms of a healthy pregnancy - especially the intense emotions and maternal instincts.

Those maternal instincts, however, still did not apply to Jon Snow. This showed especially when he hit Amely too hard and caused her to cry. Catelyn stormed into the courtyard and hit Jon over the back with the wooden sword - shrieking about being more careful. Amely went to defend the boy, but Catelyn turned and accidentally elbowed the girl's face.

She doesn't remember what made her think she was in trouble, but it prompted her to run from Winterfell until she was stopped by a wall.

Now, Amely misses Duncan the Giant almost as much she misses her mother. At the time, however, nothing had ever scared her more than when she slammed into his massive body. Old Nan had always talked about giants being beyond-the-Wall, but she'd told a lot of stories and not all of them true.

The giant scooped her into his massive arms and held her in the air, before a woman near him told him to put her down. After much discussion that she didn't understand at the time, the woman managed to convince her friends to let Amely travel with them.

She'd always heard the horror stories of the wildlings. Some say they eat the people they encounter. Others say they steal little children from their beds at night. Old Nan had called them slavers, slayers, and thieves.

This woman, named Alys, seemed to care for the young girl more than the Starks of Winterfell ever had. Alys took her in and raised her among the Free Folk.

It wasn't until Luna started to loudly growl that Amely awoke from her memories. Not far away stood a massive stag. A simple tsk-tsk alerted Luna that she had permission to kill the animal. Amely was starving and Luna had a litter to maintain.

The direwolf moved to silently circle the stag, confident in her ability to kill the creature. It was when the stag brought its head up from the grass and made eye contact with Luna that Amely felt the first wisps of anxiety. It bolted towards her, going at a speed that can only be described as frenzied animal. Fear struck into the heart of Amely.

For the first time since she was young, she was defenseless.

Luna, though slower than her usual self, moved in front of Amely to protect her.

The direwolf had always been intensely protective of her - even long before Amely learned she was a warg. The first time Amely accidentally slipped into Luna's body was a bonding experience, one that tied them together forever. Luna allowed Amely to do things that she'd never be able to do otherwise. Luna helped her live a better life. They were family.

It was the next four seconds that would define Amely's new life. The stag bent its neck downward and Luna leapt to attack. Amely had never had this little control of her body in her life. The uncertainty of the situation caused her to involuntarily close her eyes.

After a few moments of sickening crunches and the shrieks of the two animals, Amely began to feel lightheaded. The pain that followed was unlike anything she'd ever felt. It was like her heart had cracked and a part of her soul slipped out.

Amely had met more than one warg in her lifetime. They all had similar stories of people whose bonded animals had died. Some went crazy - they couldn't cope with the loss. Others simply became empty. Each story had one thing in common though. The pain of losing the bonded animal.

She knew it then.

Luna hadn't survived.

Amely opened her eyes to find the horrific scene. The only thing the stag had lost was an antler while her wolf had lost her life.

She didn't have more than a moment to grieve before Luna's midsection began to move on its own. One after the other, the pups made their way into the world until the last one, a tiny albino, joined them.

The shock and adrenaline of the moment wore off quickly, as Amely realized that the blood covering her right side was her own. She must have ripped her makeshift stitches open when she moved to the direwolf's side. She almost sighed at her own stupidity.

Still holding the runt, Amely could feel herself becoming more upset by the second. She eventually let out the gasp she'd been holding in, and began to uncontrollably sob. She'd have died there if it wasn't for the sound of a twig snapping in the distance.

Unready to die at the hands of any man or that damned stag, Amely lifted herself from the ground and hid herself among a fallen tree and some rotten branches.

A group of men who varied in age came into view. She couldn't fully hear what they were saying, but she could guess when a dark-haired boy around her age picked up one of the pups. There was nothing that she could do about the maternal instincts she felt. She was injured, defenseless, and outnumbered.

Still, that didn't stop her from standing when one of the men held his dagger to a small, grey puppy's throat. Despite the crippling pain in her side, she took a few steps and let pleading words tumble from her mouth.

"No, no, no, please stop."

She knew how she must have looked. An injured wildling who came too far south for her own good. Noble families of the South didn't care too much for her type. Judging by their boiled leather doublets and rich furs, these men were a noble family.

Amely sometimes missed being dressed in the fancy silks and furs that noble women wore. She quickly learned that dresses weren't ideal for her lifestyle. There wasn't any use in trying to hide her wildling appearance anyway. Noble women don't often find themselves blood-soaked and holding a newborn pup.

One man of the group was kind enough to vocalize her apparent heritage, in case no one else had noticed. They had all clearly noticed. She would have smirked, if she had a death-wish.

"Father, she's injured. She'll die soon." These men were particularly skilled at pointing out the obvious. Even she was aware that she was likely to die.

The man's voice must have grabbed the attention of the pup in her arms. He began to squirm, eventually leaping from her arms. The pup had used her side for leverage in jumping from her arms - the pain was remarkable. It caused her to sway in place.

A few of the men tensed even further. She found it pathetic that they thought her injured self and this tiny animal were so intimidating.

Amely could feel her skin sticking to the bottom layer of her clothing and her blood cooling to her skin. She knew that she was too far gone when she looked up to see the familiar face of a man who she thought she would never see again.

_"Gods, how far south have I come?" _She tried to remember the distance she'd come and if she'd seen any banners flying. She knew which sigil she would've seen.

Amely could only imagine what she looked like to the man before her. He was too young to be the one she hoped he was and it was too cruel a joke for the gods she worshiped. Still, the dark-haired man made her nervous.

Her vision had begun to blur around the edges.

She let her eyes drift over the rest of the group, who were all staring intensely at her. There was the first boy who looked to be her savior, but wasn't making any strides to help her. Then a boy who looked eerily familiar to herself.

_"Gods, is this a show of people I only vaguely know? Something to keep me thinking even after my death?"_

The uncontrolled voice in her head was getting more and more sardonic by the heartbeat.

The next was a young boy who looked more concerned than afraid. He was unconsciously stroking a pup's head in his arms. The innocent act almost made her smile.

The next two members of the family were who scared her the most. The first, a young man of nearly her age, stood with his sword drawn and two wolves in his arms. He had familiar blue eyes and curly auburn hair. His doublet was something that only a noble boy of noble birth could afford. How he planned to attack while managing three things in two arms was beyond her.

The older man standing next to him was intently focused on her. It wasn't a look of lust, she'd recognize lust. It took a moment for her eyes to focus again before she realized that she was looking at her savior. Lord Eddard Stark. She could feel her heart beating wildly in a last ditch effort for survival, causing more blood to leak from her side.

She had to say his name before Death could have her. He wouldn't just watch her die if he knew who she was. Surely, he knew who she was.

_"Speak, you moron."_

With a final breath, she opened her mouth, but Lord Stark interrupted. He said her name, the name she hadn't been called for years, her birth name.

The cadence of it struck pain through her heart. Or maybe it was Death's final warning before finishing his job. Either way, it hurt.

The men of the group turned to question their Lord so quickly that it made her head spin. The dizziness forced her knees out from under her. She stared at the ground to stabilize herself. Before long, her eyes drifted shut on their own.

Amely exhaled the whimper she held for Lord Eddard Stark, her protector, and fell into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except for Amely. GRRM owns everything else.**

**Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Bran's POV**

The Myth of Winterfell.

Bran had never heard her name, just her story. She was the girl that the Starks had lost.

Jon had told Bran the story exactly once in his lifetime. Bran could sense the guilt and regret in his bastard brother's voice. He explained why she'd come to live with them and how she'd disappeared into thin air. Jon said that their father even went to King Robert for advice, which was rare.

It didn't matter to the King whether the climate, the wildlife, or the wildlings did the girl in. He was convinced that Balon Greyjoy had committed a second act of treason. If Greyjoy had any power behind his name, the accusation would've started another war between the two houses.

Not fond of beating a dead horse, King Robert decreed that Balon would have to give up his only remaining heir as payment for his act of treason. That's how Theon Greyjoy came to live with the Starks. Robb eventually chimed in and mentioned the one time he'd asked his father what had happened to the girl. When he brought her to their parents, Catelyn began to sob into her hands. Ned asked him to never bring Amely up again.

Bran could only imagine the surprise the entire family felt after hearing her name aloud for the first time in years.

Amely's color had returned from almost violet to pale pink. She also avoided infection in the cut along her ribs. All-in-all, she seemed to be healing.

Even if this was true, she still hadn't awoken.

Sansa considered this to be the incarnation of her favorite love story.

"The lovers are tragically separated. The moment they reunite, his lover is so overwhelmed that she faints. She isn't awoken until he kisses her. True love's kiss," she once tried explaining to the family, who mostly nodded along. Bran and Arya rolled their eyes, but Bran could see that Robb was getting irritated with Sansa. This is all a story to her, a beautiful story with a beautiful ending.

Everyone except her seemed to understand that Amely's story may not have a happy ending.

* * *

Bringing Amely to the castle had been a dramatic event. After she fell unconscious, Jon leapt to investigate. Robb ran to her soon after - practically throwing the pups in the process. It was clear that their father was just as concerned for her safety as his sons, but he maintained the face of the Lord of Winterfell. He sent a man ahead to alert Catelyn and Maester Luwin of a direwolf attack involving a young girl.

Arya later told him that their mother burst into her lessons with Septa Mordane - she'd assumed Arya had snuck off with the group.

Catelyn quickly checked over Bran once the group arrived back at Winterfell. Ned approached them a moment later, allowing Catelyn to look over him as well.

"It's Amely, Cat. Amely. She's here." The desperation in his father's voice was alarming to Bran. He had a few seconds to see the disbelief on his mother's face before she ran to Maester Luwin's chambers. Bran followed close behind.

The young boy was like a phantom in the chaos of her sickroom. His mother began stroking the girl's head and whispering prayers into her ear. Maester Luwin was in the process of removing the girl's many layers. He had the help of a few young women who were training in medicine. Theon had burst in - yelling about her true identity. Bran heard "wildling whore" at least four times. Clearly, Theon hadn't seen the resemblance between them. Robb must have been watching on from the corner, because he grabbed his younger brother and pulled him out of the way. They stood that way, the two of them, until Amely was stripped of her layers.

Luwin said the words and the room became silent.

"A blade did this. She tried to... A blade did this work."

Maester Luwin pulled back the final layer to reveal broken stitches and a precise cut along one of her ribs.

After a moment of silence, Theon stormed from the room. Bran was unsure why he was so angered. They were doing every thing they could to ensure her survival, which only benefited Theon. If Amely lived, there was still a chance that he could be sent home as the heir to the Iron Islands.

"Robb Stark, get him out of here!" His mother's shrill yelling rang through the small room. She was pointing directly at them.

His brother's grip tightened around Bran's chest before he was also ripped from the room. The door slammed behind them.

* * *

In the weeks since Amely's arrival, the Stark family's lives had changed dramatically.

Bran and Arya frequented Amely's sickroom at least once a day. The room smelled sour - the way illness often does.

Sansa was there twice as often. She couldn't wait for Robb to prove her right and kiss his sleeping princess.

Catelyn and Jon alternated shifts in the sickroom. Neither could stand sitting in tense silence together.

Jon has only seen Theon once in the weeks since they had found his sister. He was drunk and entering a brothel with a redheaded woman. Neither of Bran's older brothers understood why the boy wouldn't want to support his sister.

Sansa had elaborately decorated the room to cheer everyone up, using flowers and bright fabrics to lighten the mood. Not that it worked. Bran had the suspicion that Amely wasn't the type of girl who swooned over flowers.

Robb's constant fidgeting didn't help to lighten the mood either. The lack of control over the situation was clearly getting to him. Whether it be smoothing her hair or massaging her hands, the touch seemed to have a soothing effect on him.

Robb hadn't left Amely's side for more than an hour at a time since she arrived.

Bran understood why, though.

In the weeks since Amely's arrival, she'd nearly died three times.

There was the first time - in the woods - when Robb had nearly watched his childhood best friend bleed to death in front of him.

The second time had been more traumatizing than the first - for both Bran and Robb.

After being by her side every day, Robb eventually asked Maester Luwin to teach him which ointments purged infection and how to change her bandages. Luwin consulted their father; Ned declined his request. Most of the family had seen the girl's bare chest within the first week, but Ned felt it was inappropriate to encourage this behavior.

His father hadn't anticipated Amely to stop breathing when only Robb was in the room. Ned and Bran heard the yelling, and walked in to find Robb pounding on her chest and crying.

He wasn't ready for her to die. Apparently, neither was she. Amely took one ragged gasp and continued breathing.

The look on Robb's face was forever etched into Bran's mind. He'd never seen such an anguished look. Bruises were forming on her pale chest and his nails had cut little, bloody crescents into his palms - making her chest look practically caved in. Robb had just saved her life, but he'd hurt her even more in the process.

Robb directly blamed his ruthless beating of her chest when she stopped breathing again a day later. He wouldn't even touch her that time.

Maester Luwin ran in and began pumping his palms onto her chest. Her throat made an odd croaking noise and they were sure she was dead. Luwin soon became too tired to continue. With tears streaming down his face, Robb begged the old maester to keep trying. Sometime during his begging and Luwin's panting, Amely quietly began to breathe again.

Some days Bran would walk in to find his brother talking to the sleeping girl. He'd whisper some random memory from their childhood into her ear or he'd tell her the gossip of Winterfell. On particularly cold days, he'd ask her if she was cold and stack more furs onto her.

Robb wouldn't talk much to anyone else in the family. He'd give short responses to the things that required attention, but sometimes wouldn't answer at all if he felt it wasn't important. This had taken a special toll on Rickon, the baby of the Stark family. He had begun to follow Bran around, crying at his feet. Bran was no substitute for his older brother.

It had been nearly a week before Robb touched Amely again. Without any physical contact, Robb had become more fidgety than ever. He was always adjusting a blanket or pacing back and forth. He only watched on as Maester Luwin checked her stitches and Catelyn brushed her hair. Bran could tell it was driving him crazy, but Robb must have assumed it was for the best.

One day, Bran brought Shaggy Dog, his own unnamed wolf, and Grey Wind into the sickroom. Grey Wind clearly missed his master and Bran needed help training his own pup. Catelyn was holding Amely's hand when the pups joined her on the bed. After a moment of yipping and rearranging, the pups calmed.

Amely let out a whimper and squeezed Catelyn's hand. Robb immediately began stroking her face while whispering words of encouragement.

Bran saw the desperation in his brother's eyes as he searched her face.

He also saw something in his brother break when nothing else indicated she was alive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the characters except for Amely. GRRM owns everything.**

**Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Robb's POV**

Robb Stark was enchanted by Amely Greyjoy.

There really wasn't any other word to accurately describe what the girl had done to him.

She had returned to the Starks - after nearly 13 years - and had become the most beautiful woman Robb had ever seen.

He was enchanted.

Unfortunately, he was also infuriated.

Infuriated that she'd been there for nearly three weeks and hadn't awoken.

Infuriated that his father refused to visit the sleeping girl.

Infuriated that only Bran respected his connection to Amely, and that was only because he was equally enchanted.

Robb was infuriated, but silent about it. He let the black fury grow inside of him, until one day, it exploded within.

She was dying. He knew that, though he wouldn't accept it.

That one day - _gods - _that one day.

Robb beat her chest purple.

_"You nearly broke the most fragile thing in Winterfell," _a voice in his mind reminded him every single day.

* * *

Ned Stark would not visit Amely's sickroom. Robb could guess why.

Amely had taught his father a lesson - one that had stuck with him.

Anyone can lose anything.

* * *

It had been three weeks since her arrival, and the worst was over.

"If she were to die, she would have already."

Those were Maester Luwin's words. They had meant the world to Robb.

Still, doubt lingered in his mind. It left a sour taste.

* * *

_"If she hasn't awoken yet, she never will."_

As time went on, the doubt in his mind had developed a voice. That voice had an opinion.

Robb had prayed for the voice to stop with the dreadful thoughts. It came to him, day and night, and meticulously harassed him.

"_Luwin has been wrong before. You could still lose her. Then you'd learn the same lesson. You can lose anything."_

During the time between crushing thoughts, Robb considered Amely's past with the wildlings. It was a life that he hoped she would never have to return to. Although he was ashamed of it, he had seen the girl's bare body several times. She was muscled, like he expected, but he hadn't anticipated the scars that littered her pale body. Besides the future scar that was healing on her right side, she carried several large scars on her left thigh and a few on one forearm. They were clearly self-defense scars. The thought of someone attacking his childhood best friend was constantly on Robb's mind. He should have been there to protect her.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Jon's voice rang through the silence of the room.

It was a question that Robb often asked himself.

"_What are you doing? You're being pathetic. Get up and leave. Get up. And leave her."_

"When was the last time you left this room?"

Jon cracked open one of the windows, letting the musty air out and allowing cold air in. The linens hanging from the canopy moved with the chilled breeze.

"I have to take care of her."

The room felt tense. Robb could feel Jon staring as he slid a blanket higher on Amely's body.

The only relief was the yipping of Grey Wind and Ghost entering the room and leaping to the bed. They posted themselves as guard-dogs on either side of the sleeping form, before resting their heads on her legs. The two pups watched the world unfold around them. The sight made Robb sigh with a small grin.

"Close it, Jon. She'll get cold." Robb whispered after a particularly cold gust of wind. There was something about talking in front of Amely that made him feel rude, causing him to whisper instead. Jon did not share this feeling.

"You've stacked every fur in Winterfell upon the girl. She'll likely survive the upcoming winter in that bed." Jon joked, but Robb could only offer up a smile. He knew that if he remained silent for long enough, then this conversation would turn into the dozens that he'd already had with his other family members.

Sansa, ever the bright beauty, insisted that Robb leave so she could take Amely's measurements. His little sister claimed she wanted to have an entire wardrobe ready for the girl once she awoke. He knew it was a ploy when he offered to help and Sansa faltered. Maybe he was being paranoid, maybe not - but he wasn't leaving soon.

Arya had been a little more blunt in her attempts to persuade him. Robb let her get away with several derogatory terms for Amely before he told her to shut up and leave. Bran followed soon after with an apology. His little brother sat with him for an hour of silence before leaving. That was the day Amely had squeezed his mother's hand.

Catelyn had once tried to convince him to leave Amely's side, before she too succumbed to the torture of waiting. Robb loved his mother for being patient with him, but he knew Amely was just as important to her as she was to him. That's why she was there every day.

"You've heard Maester Luwin for yourself. The most dangerous time has passed."

Robb felt his strength finally crumbling.

"I can't - I won't leave her." Robb placed his forehead into his hands and his elbows on the bed. He inhaled deeply. "What if she dies while I'm gone?" Robb began to shiver - unsure if the cold, the grief, or the release did him in.

It was the "what if?" that made Robb stay. He knew the thought would plague him until the dawn anyway, making leaving for the night pointless. If it wasn't "what if she dies?", then it was "what if she wakes?". This girl doesn't know anyone in his family, let alone himself. He would never forgive himself if she awoke to total strangers - or worse - an entirely empty room.

"You look like you haven't eaten or slept in weeks. You are withering, Robb. I won't watch it for a second longer. I will walk you back to your chamber, and immediately return. I will stay with her while you rest for only a few hours. Please."

Something about Jon's sudden emotion had Robb feeling more exhausted than ever. He had no control as his head nodded up and down.

"Only for a few hours. No more than that. If anything happens, you will come to me first." Robb tried to put on the voice of the future Lord of Winterfell. It usually carried more authority with it, but he was exhausted and his voice cracked with emotion.

Jon's surprised facial expression told Robb that his half-brother hadn't anticipated winning this conversation. When they went to shake hands over their deal, Robb suddenly felt an intense appreciation for Jon. He brought his brother in for a strong hug before Jon escorted him back to his chamber.

Robb went to his bed with trepidation, but in his heart, he knew that Amely was safe with Jon.

* * *

**Chapter 4 continued: Jon's POV**

_"Stay awake."_

Jon's surprised face when Robb agreed to leave was the only thing that hid how exhausted he really was. In truth, Jon had slept about as much as Robb had. He'd just been better at hiding it.

Jon spent many a night considering his future as the bastard of Winterfell, so these late nights weren't a problem for him. He often considered taking the black. Tonight was different. Tonight, Jon found himself dozing in the company of the sleeping woman. The only thing keeping him awake was the promise he'd made to his brother. The cold wind from the window helped.

_"Stay. Awake."_

Jon had made the offer sincerely, he really had. He just hadn't planned on Robb agreeing to it. Now, he had to repeat the phrase to himself once every two minutes. He had to stay awake.

He'd already done everything that he could. He pinched himself whenever he felt himself dozing. He counted how many different colored fabrics lined the walls and ceilings; 13. He'd counted how many flowers Sansa had managed to fit into one vase; the most being 23. He'd tried to count the stars in the sky until a cold breeze nearly froze him in his spot. If Jon closed the window, he knew he'd become too warm and fall asleep the moment he sat down.

Jon had nothing to do but think. All thoughts turned back to the girl next to him: how she survived, how she came back, how she'd react to Robb's new affection. Jon respected his brother's love for the missing girl, though he didn't understand it.

Jon was astonished to hear her name fall from his father's lips. Everyone was. A highborn princess couldn't survive 12 years out there. It wasn't possible. The climate alone should have killed her, not including whatever else lives in the wilderness of the North.

Jon had always felt guilty about her disappearance, though he hadn't given her much thought for several years. They began to call her the Myth of Winterfell, for none of the younger children knew if she'd actually lived or not. She was real alright, and strong too. She'd made that clear during her silent time in Winterfell. Hell, she'd killed the hulking mother of their new pets. She'd made an impression on everyone in Winterfell, and no one had ever heard a word from her lips.

A small growl and bark from the bed pulled him from his thoughts. Jon turned to find four pups fighting for places to sleep on Amely's bed. Jon didn't particularly care about the name of Sansa's pup, but it had joined Ghost and Grey Wind on the bed. Arya's dog, aptly named after the war heroine, Nymeria, was also snuggling into Amely's bed. The sight brought a smile to his face.

Was this was something the pups had done every night? Robb would have mentioned it to someone, right? The situation would've been less concerning if Bran's unnamed wolf hadn't began howling from below the window. Jon began to tremble, unsure if it was the cold breeze or the eerie moment that made him feel this way.

Jon was eager to dismiss the feeling as late-night suspicion. Everything is more eerie at night. He rationalized that the pups were littermates and just wanted the company of each other. There was no better explanation. Jon was too busy thinking about eerie situations to realize that Bran's pup had stopped howling below. He returned to his spot at the window, only to discover that the silence of Winterfell had become practically crushing.

After another 20 minutes of self-loathing thoughts and sheer silence, a scratching noise came at the door. Jon considered that it may be one of the evil, walking trees that Old Nan had once told him about. He entertained the thought for a moment while the door was nudged open by Bran's pup.

"You too, then?" he asked the pup, before realizing what he was talking to.

"_I am bloody losing it." _Jon rubbed his forehead with a desperate laugh.

Jon watched as the pup circled the bed, trying not to leap onto its siblings while also finding itself a place to sleep. It paused for a moment before putting its two front paws on the ledge of the bed. It made a small whimpering noise before it leapt for a spot on Amely's right side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Amely. GRRM owns everything.**

**I hope this chapter makes up for the shortness of the last one.**

**Please review and enjoy!**

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**Chapter 5 - AMELY'S POV**

The only thing she could feel was the crushing heat of whatever was laying on her. The furry warmth made her think of Luna. Amely knew that the past few days hadn't been a bad dream though; she didn't have the luck for such things. This wasn't Luna because Luna was dead. This wasn't home because she didn't have a home. This was a nightmare.

Alys had always taught her daughter to take immediate inventory of her body upon waking. The things she doesn't notice could get her killed. Amely shot upright, noting that quick movement didn't hurt her wound as much as it should have. A dull pain still swept through her body. Involuntary curses fell from her mouth. She must've been asleep for awhile if her body had healed that much. More curses.

Besides the dull pain and fever, everything seemed manageable. Amely looked up from her nearly exposed chest to find a bright-red man avoiding eye contact with her. She remembered her childhood friends with perfect clarity. This was Jon Snow. He would later deny that he ever blushed at seeing her. They would laugh over it, as she never remembered anything about that night quite as distinctly as the blush that crept up his neck.

"Amely. You're awake." Jon had become very perceptive over the years. She nodded.

"Get your father," her voice was hoarse from disuse. He ran for the hallway.

Amely would be forever grateful to the Starks for recognizing her in those pathetic final moments. Still, she would never forgive herself for becoming so vulnerable in front of them. The Free Folk didn't show vulnerability to the common people. They were supposed to be invincible, by legend and in reality. She felt like a failure to her own people for exactly three seconds, until she realized that they weren't her people anymore. Alys was dead, a loss she had yet to process. Duncan had died ages ago, after falling through thin ice. Her "brothers" had tried to rape and kill her. She had no one and nothing.

The heaviness of the situation lessened when a grey bundle wiggled into her thigh. She realized then that she was surrounded by sleepy wolf pups. They had grown. Amely let out a sigh of relief that nearly exhausted all her energy. The Starks had allowed them to live, and even kept them around for her. She briefly wondered if she could warg into any of them. It was a thought for later.

Right now, she wanted to memorize every detail of all six before the whole castle burst into her room. She was incredibly aware that she wasn't supposed to be alive. Not even because of recent circumstances. She'd disappeared and hadn't any intention of ever returning. She could safely assume that a maester and 19 others would be invading her tiny room shortly. The thought gave her anxiety, so she pushed it from her mind and focused on the pups. The albino one drew Amely's attention first, as someone had been kind enough to wash her blood from its coat. The runt's coat glowed in the firelight. She took a few extra moments to give affection to that one.

She'd just begun cataloging the markings on the grey pup when she heard sounds of excitement coming from the corridor outside her room. All six pups stood from their places on the beds and growled at the closed door. Her heart swelled at how protective the babies were already.

Ned Stark soon burst through her doorway and stared in disbelief. Catelyn Stark followed after, both in varying states of disarray. She could see Jon standing in the hallway behind them. The tiny pack soon stopped their growling after determining that she was safe. Amely found that she couldn't think of a single word that would make this situation any less weird. She was alive, awake, and being fiercely protected by a pack of tiny direwolves.

Amely decided that there were no words that could alleviate the tension of the room. She gave them a small grin, hoping that Lady Catelyn didn't expect a curtsy. Catelyn let out a nervous laugh, more accurately described as a sharp exhale accompanied by a smile.

"Jon, get Maester Luwin please. Wake him if you must," Ned said calmly.

This gave Amely time to study the couple before her. Time had been kind to the Lord of Winterfell. There were more lines than Amely remembered, but that was expected from an aging man. His hair had no yet grayed and his body had not yet begun to sag. Ned Stark was still the honorable, attractive man that she once knew.

Time had not been so kind to Catelyn Stark. Amely could assume that this was attributed to motherhood. Catelyn's blue eyes looked red with exhaustion and her neck had become wrinkled. Amely couldn't bear to think about what they saw while looking at her.

Catelyn started moving towards the bed, trying to shoo the pups in the process. She sat on Amely's bedside.

"My love, I can't believe that – how are you – how did you – are you—" Catelyn exhaled slowly after overwhelming herself. Amely could see the tears in her eyes, even as the older woman looked away from her. "I'm happy you're back." Catelyn turned to lightly touch Amely's cheek. She couldn't help but smile at that. Catelyn Stark, like her husband, wasn't one who frequently showed emotion.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Stark, and your concern. Would you allow me to speak to Lord Stark alone?" Catelyn looked a little crestfallen at her request. Did she think that Amely was going to be up for a lot of conversation the second she woke up? Amely hadn't intended for her to come with her husband and she wasn't the person Amely needed to address. With a nod, Catelyn stood from the bedside and left the room. Ned Stark remained before her, staring at his clasped hands. She would have to initiate the conversation.

"Are you going to make me your ward again? My lord—"

He let out a desperate laugh. "Ned."

"Ned, what are the chances you're willing to disregard my return? It's clear that I'm no longer the noble girl I once was. I can take care of myself. Will you allow me to continue south after this is done healing?" She gestured to the wound on her side. With any luck, King Robert had overlooked her disappearance and Ned wouldn't report her being alive.

"You've made it very clear that you can take care of yourself," he sighed as he sat in the chair across from her bed, "Everyone in Winterfell is impressed by the girl who killed a direwolf." _What? "_Especially your little brother." _WHAT? _ "However, I can't just let you leave. Your disappearance nearly started a war. Your return can relieve any tension between our two houses." Ned probably had a point, but there were so many things he didn't understand. She couldn't bring herself to mention the truth about Luna yet. Let them think she was a big, bad wildling who can't be killed.

"I'm not of House Greyjoy any longer. I'm not of any house. I'm a free woman! And although I appreciate the hospitality that you've always shown me, I deserve to be treated as a free woman. I was given up by my true parents and my foster parents abandoned me. I'd be dead if it weren't for a band of wildlings on _your_ land." She knew that the Greyjoy's hadn't voluntarily given her up and she could assume that the Starks had sent out search parties. It was the emotionally manipulative thing to say, but she wasn't going back to restrained life. She sighed before she continued.

"If Theon is here, then you've replaced me as a ward. Please. If you alert Balon, he'll drag me back to the Iron Islands where I'll live out a caged life. If you alert the King, he will insist on either my reinstatement as a ward or my execution. Please Ned. Please." The frantic tone of her voice had made a few of the pups anxious. The grey one stood from his resting spot to stare at Ned Stark. She almost rolled her eyes at how protective he was.

Maester Luwin and Jon entered the room during the tense silence that followed her little speech. She was honestly a little shocked to see that the old man was still around. He'd always been ancient, as far back as she could remember. He used the same kind touch on her then as he did when she was five.

"Do you feel lightheaded?" he brought the back of his hand to her forehead. "You're warm. Do you remember anything from your sleep? I can get you milk of the poppy should you want it. I imagine you're very thirsty as well. Can you lift your arm so I can check the wound? Do you mind being exposed to me? Would you like these men to leave?" Luwin's line of questioning hadn't annoyed Amely like she thought it would. Being poked and prodded wasn't something she typically took well to. She simply nodded without considering the questions he'd asked.

The honorable Ned Stark stood to leave without request, showing that he hadn't changed with time. He motioned towards Jon in order to usher him from the room. As they left, Amely heard Jon ask if they should wake Robb.

As Luwin checked and cleaned her wound, she began to think about the oldest Stark child. Survival was always her first priority. Amely didn't really have the time for reminiscing. However, on the nights when she was sure she was going to freeze to death, she did contemplate her childhood. She'd most often think of the nights where she, Robb, and Jon all slept in one bed together, snuggling for warmth. Amely especially thought of Robb. They were practically inseparable during her time in Winterfell. She imagined that he'd become a fine, honorable young man over the years.

She hissed when Luwin rubbed salve on a particularly sensitive spot.

"So would you like to tell me how you survived? Someone mentioned wildlings." Amely noticed that there wasn't a trace of judgmental tone in his voice.

"I was running until I stumbled upon a band of the Free Folk. One named Alys took me in and raised me. It's really not that interesting. Would you mind telling me how long I was asleep for? "

"Nearly a month, I believe." She was surprised at the number. She'd expected something like a week, at most. She couldn't help but laugh at her situation. She'd told Ned that she had no intention of staying, but she'd already been there for too long.

"Well, what's happened since my mysterious disappearan—"

Robb Stark surged through the door a moment later, rudely interrupting her question.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the GOT universe, except for Amely. GRRM owns everything else.

**Sidenote: **School starts soon for some, including myself, and it will be hectic times. That said, I probably won't be able update this work as much due to my busy schedule and the limited chapters I have already finalized. This presents me with two options: finding a co-writer / editor or just updating on a schedule of once every four weeks. If you're interested in co-writing, write a small chapter about the two characters and private message it to me. If you think I should just limit how often I update to once a month, then put that in the reviews.

Thanks and enjoy!

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**Chapter 6 – ROBB'S POV**

What Robb had done for the last two hours could not be accurately described as rest. He dozed for maybe 45 minutes during that time. The remainder was spent tossing and turning. Not even the opened windows could stop him from sweating during his separation from her. The stress was getting to him. He felt like he would burst into flame if he didn't begin shedding layers. At one point, Robb thought he'd snap on the wolf began howling somewhere in Winterfell. The world was too quiet and too loud all at the same time.

_"You can't trust Jon. You've given him exactly what he wanted – time alone with her."_

His inner cynic was feeling vocal tonight. The silence of Winterfell only made the doubt speak louder.

"_If she wakes up and Jon is there, she's going to fall in love with him. You couldn't be there to protect her and now she's in love with your brother. Congratulations, you've lost everything."_

He'd been pacing when a slight knock on his door pulled him from his frustrations. It was all the warning he got before Jon burst into the room. He wouldn't have left Amely unless it was an emergency. His half-brother was too loyal to fail him. Robb had already begun redressing himself when Jon opened his mouth to explain.

"Listen, Robb. You need to stay calm." Robb could feel Jon's eyes on him as he collected himself. He didn't have the time to discuss himself. There were only a few possible outcomes to this conversation – the worst being that she'd died. He wasn't going to waste another minute in his own chamber.

"You were _supposed_ to stay with her." Robb knew the edge to his words would hurt Jon. He couldn't think about that right now. He was desperately trying to fix an inside-out pair of breeches that he'd found on the floor. They weren't being cooperative.

_"Just go in your underclothes. Dead girls don't mind a little nudity."_

Robb looked to his brother, noticing that he'd shut the door and was partially blocking it with his body.

"I did. Luwin is with her now. Robb, sit."

"_If Luwin is with her, she's either dead or dying."_

The thought terrified him. Sitting for a chat with Jon wasn't going to bring her back. He moved to the door where Jon stopped him. He couldn't help the growl that escaped his throat. His rage doubled when Jon placed a hand on Robb's shoulder and directed him backwards.

"Sit." Jon reiterated. Robb took a few steps back and sighed. He took the moment to slip on the breeches he'd been fixing.

"She's awake."

The words took a minute to register with Robb.

_"What?" _Even the internal voice hadn't thought of that possibility.

He searched Jon's face for any trace of deceit. Honest Stark eyes stared back. He wasn't going to be out of her sickroom for another minute. Robb pushed Jon out of the way, probably a little too harshly. The chill of the hallway reminded him that he hadn't grabbed a shirt. The cold sweat made his skin feel tight. Robb couldn't care about that. Jon was shouting after him, but blood was rushing in his ears. None of it mattered now.

She was awake.

* * *

Robb was running so fast that he'd nearly passed her room. He allowed himself one deep breath.

If Jon hadn't caught up to him yet, then he'd given up. Robb would have to thank him for leaving them be. He used this time to look over himself. Robb had been in a constant state of dishevelment for nearly two weeks now. This second was the only one he'd have to compose himself before meeting the girl who'd enchanted him. His chest was shining with drying sweat. His breeches were sliding down his hips. He could only imagine what his hair and beard looked like.

Voices from inside the room brought him back from his vanity. Then he heard a light laughter through the door. It was the most delicately beautiful sound he'd ever heard. The desire to see the smile that accompanied it overwhelmed him. He couldn't help but surge into the room.

* * *

Robb entered to hear no laughter, but only the growling of several young direwolves. He earned himself the troubled looks of the only two people in the room. Maester Luwin practically rolled his eyes at Robb, while Amely cooed at the pups.

"Hush, hush, darlings." Her full lips made the –sh sound more decadent than it should have been. He wanted to hear more.

Her relaxed tone hadn't had the desired effect on the tiny animals surrounding her. All six of them were growling. Even Grey Wind was growling at his own master. They all eventually cozied back in Amely's legs after realizing that it was only Robb who'd disturbed them. All except for Grey Wind, who remained skeptical. Robb was a little jealous of where the pup's loyalties lied.

She sighed once the intensity of his entrance faded. Robb quickly realized what he'd walked into. Her arm was above her head and her chest was exposed. Robb could feel his cheeks reddening. If the situation made her uncomfortable at all, she didn't show it. She simply lowered her arm and pulled a sheet up to block his view. Luwin continued whatever prodding he was doing behind the cover. She looked more concerned for him than herself. She caught his distraught gaze.

"Hello, Robb. Is everything alright?"

The melody of her voice nearly weakened him in the knees. The future Lord of Winterfell could be brought down by the voice of a mere girl. He let out an anxious laugh. He couldn't help it. She no longer carried the stern accent of the North. Every word ended with an upward inflection, like a bird's song. He wondered where she'd picked it up.

"_Speak, you damned idiot."_

"Is he going to talk to me?" She looked to Maester Luwin behind her cover. He could hear the smirk in her voice. Robb felt a twinge of jealousy over the loss of attention.

"The boy is smitten." Luwin replied, while she giggled. Robb's face burned from embarrassment. He couldn't help but notice that her eyes ran over his body before returning to his face. He expected her to turn as red as he was, but she only raised an eyebrow at him. The action confused him.

It didn't seem like his silence was bothering her as much as it was himself. He was quickly realizing that he'd never considered what he'd say to her if she'd awoken.

_"That's because you didn't think she'd live."  
_

What was he supposed to say? No, everything was not alright. He'd had every hope of her waking up. He'd prayed for it every night for the entire time she'd been there. He wasn't ready tonight. He was under the gaze of the girl whose eyes he never thought he'd see again and he was unkempt, sweaty, and shirtless.

Luwin cleared his throat from beside her, drawing her concerned eyes from Robb to the old maester. Robb didn't like when he couldn't see her eyes.

"Are you almost finished? It appears Robb needs your attention more than I do. He's apparently lost his tongue." Luwin chuckled at her. She smiled at her own jest and directed her eyes back to him, one eyebrow still raised. He wanted all of her attention, but her stare was making him nervous.

He could feel his own fingers running through his hair. He wasn't even sure how they got there. It was an old nervous habit that she was bringing out in him. Another desperate laugh tumbled from his lips.

"You're back." It was the only thing he could think to say. His fingers found his hair again. The look on her face told him that she wasn't impressed with his deduction. She nodded anyway.

"It would appear so."

Luwin clasped his hands together and backed away from her side. She lowered the sheet and tucked it under her arms. The sight of her lying in bed with just a sheet covering her body made Robb's abdomen clench. He sighed at himself, bringing Amely's eyes back to his stomach. She raised that damned eyebrow at him again.

"Just rest for now. I know you'd like to leave, but there's still a chance of infection. I can bring you something for the pain if you'd like." Luwin's statement crushed a part of Robb, causing his vision to blur. He should have known that she wouldn't want to be cooped up like some precious lady. She would want out, and soon.

"I think I can tough it out. You've been so kind to me. I can't imagine that I'll be able to thank you."

"You mustn't worry, child. It was a pleasure talking with you. Robb, come get me if anything happens. I'll be in my chambers. I don't want her to sleep yet for she may just slip away from us again." He winked at her. Luwin turned his attention back to Robb. "Will you stay with her until the morning? As per usual?" Luwin wasn't usually this jovial. Old Maester Luwin was making fun of Robb's recent time spent with the sleeping Amely. He'd even winked at her.

Robb wondered what she had done to bring this behavior out in the old man.

Luwin opened the door, which revealed an eavesdropping Jon Snow behind it. Luwin must have understood that Robb wanted to be alone with Amely. The older man asked his half-brother to escort him back to his chambers. Robb had no doubt that the two would be discussing the events of the evening.

He turned back to Amely to find her staring at the door. She looked slightly confused. He approached her on the bed and sat next to her. Robb had to nudge Grey Wind out of the way, which earned him a warning growl. Amely hushed him with a stroke behind an ear. There was a minute of comfortable silence between them. Although her attention was concentrated on his pup, she began to speak.

"Luwin said 'as usual'? You know, of all people, I figured that Theon would have clung to my bedside the most. My survival dictates his future as an heir. If I'd known the future Lord of Winterfell was doting on me, I would've woken up days ago." She smirked at his flustered face. He hated when people didn't acknowledge him as a person, but as a title. It was a card she had pulled on him since they were children.

The familiarity of who she was finally flowed into him, causing him to laugh.

"Maybe the future Queen of the Iron Islands has found herself a match. The prince has found several in the town brothel." That earned him a laugh. He was thankful that despite his mother's efforts, Amely had never become a true lady. Her smile was too beautiful to be hidden away by a prude sense of humor.

"Is that what has happened to Theon? He was only just a crying baby when I left. I suppose it's for the best that he's taken an interest in northern whores. We are the best at what we do." Although it was a joke, Robb couldn't help but wonder about the innuendo behind it. Self-deprecation was one thing, but Robb had no way of knowing otherwise. Was that the life she'd had outside of Winterfell? His father would never forgive himself if Amely Greyjoy had been reduced to a common whore.

She obviously sensed his inner turmoil after he remained silent for too long. He felt her warm hand rest upon his own. Robb looked up to see her smiling warmly at him. She shook her head no, as if to answer his question. He finally took the opportunity to study her eyes. They simply looked startlingly blue from a distance, but up close, they had specks of grey in them. The irony of her sea-like, iron-speckled eyes wasn't lost on Robb.

"Robb Stark. How have I found myself Winterfell again? After so long?" She was looking at their joined hands when she'd said it. For a moment, he was concerned that she didn't remember. He would do anything to keep her talking so he'd happily tell her the story. But then he realized that the question was broader than that. She didn't want to be back. He lifted her hand and kissed it, a forward move on his part. He hoped it'd soften his next question.

"How are you alive?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Amely. The rest is GRRM.**

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**Chapter 7 - Amely's POV**

"How are you alive?"

That was really the question of the day, wasn't it? She imagined that it would probably be the question for the rest of her life. Catelyn wanted to know and Amely hadn't answered. Maester Luwin asked and she'd given him the shortest version that she could come up with. Robb deserved better than the abbreviated version. He deserved details.

"I would understand if you don't want to talk about it. I just hope that one day, you'll be able to open up to me about your past." She smiled at the sincerity of his statement.

"It's not particularly traumatic or anything," she sighed. "Okay, there are two things that you should know before I tell you about my life. The first is that my disappearance is not the fault of anyone. I don't blame anyone, especially not you, Jon, or your mother. Children dramatize things. I was scared, so I ran. I certainly didn't run because I hated my life here. You made it pleasant. Don't ever feel guilty for my actions."

Robb opened his mouth, surely to contest what she'd just said. Always the honorable Stark. She removed her hand from his and shushed him. She replaced it when he nodded. A brown pup squeaked during a yawn. She smiled, while still considering how she was going to phrase this next part.

"The second thing is, and I understand if this is hard to believe. Old Nan's stories are, for the most part, true." He chuckled at that. She raised an eyebrow at him and glared. "I would love to be kidding. We may not be living in the blue eye of a giant named Macomber. I remember that ridiculous story. But giants, they do exist. One raised me. His name was Duncan." After Duncan the Tall. His parents had a sense of humor.

Robb's smile began to fade. He furrowed his brow and bit his lower lip. It was probably to hold in a laugh, but she wouldn't let that deter her from telling her story.

"Him, and a woman named Alys. I stumbled upon them after running from here. They were in a group of several adults and several younger boys. They were part of the Free Folk. Some were orphans from northern villages and some were their own children. Alys never had any children of her own, so she took me in. She renamed me Alma. I think it was added protection so people wouldn't know my identity. But she knew. I cried for her to take me back to Winterfell for weeks. She made me swear to keep my heritage a secret. From there, she raised me."

Robb ran his fingers through his hair, staring at their joined hands. It was the fifth time he'd done it since he had burst into her room. She wanted nothing more than to tangle her fingers in his hair and calm him. She didn't have time for nervous habits. She didn't lead the life for habits in the first place.

"You know, the women of the Free Folk aren't like the noblewomen you know. We're - they're known as spearwives. They hunt and fight alongside the men. That means we're -" she sighed. "Gods, they are trained just like the men. Alys may have been like my mother, but she didn't hold back when it came to training."

Amely flipped both her arms to show Robb the tiny, white scars on her forearms.

"Alys was particularly good with small daggers. She could hide them anywhere and hit a target from any distance with them. It took awhile, but I learned that covering myself with my forearms wasn't the only way to defend myself. The same can be said for my calves. Eventually, I learned that kicking wasn't the only way to hit a person. Alys showed me. She taught me everything she knew."

Amely could tell that she was beaming with pride. She wasn't able to speak about her late mother often. She had, however, left out some details - like Alys perfecting Amely's ability to warg. If Robb believed her claim of living giants, then it was probably too soon to drop the "I can meld into the minds of animals" stone.

His face was neutral, though his fists were clenched in his lap. Amely figured he'd be mad about her rough upbringing, but he seemed to be holding it in. She knew she'd have to gloss over more details to the next part of her life story.

"We traveled slightly south of the Wall. Very few of the castles are manned by the Night's Watch anymore. Hiding has never been a problem. But with winter coming, all the food moved south. We had to follow. This is where Luna comes in," she smiled to herself. Two of the pups raised their head at their mother's name. She hadn't expected that. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

"Your father told me that Winterfell thinks I killed a direwolf. I didn't kill my only companion. The predators followed the prey south. Alys found puppy Luna alone one day, and brought her to me as a gift. I raised and trained her to be my fierce companion." She smiled to herself.

Robb's face was betraying him. The only emotion that Amely could discern from the myriad that crossed his face was sympathy. She continued on.

"We hadn't realized how far south we'd gone until Duncan fell through some thin ice. He'd fought wars, climbed the Wall, and done so many amazing things. In the end, it was simply the cold that got him. His death was rough on Alys, but we survived. With time, the adult members of the group began to fade. One died from a festered wound, another froze, and one altogether disappeared. A simple fever took Alys." It wasn't something that she'd processed yet. She abbreviated the next part.

"The last few days of her life were spent in a delirium. She wanted me to go home after she died. I don't know if Alys meant here or the islands, but she made people promise to get me home. She didn't know what she was doing by telling them my identity," Amely could feel her eyes tearing up. "Soon after, the remaining men decided they wanted to try a highborn girl. I didn't want them. I escaped. I only stopped to stitch up the wound, then I kept running. I ended up outside Winterfell with nothing but a pregnant direwolf. A stag attacked and killed Luna. Now I'm here."

Amely sighed at the end of her speech. Details were missing, but none of it was untrue. Robb had been silent. As strong as she typically was, she couldn't make eye-contact with him. Not until the brimming tears subsided. She didn't think he'd judge her, but she couldn't know. Her view through the window told her that dawn was coming in Winterfell. She sighed again once the tears were gone. Amely hadn't thought it was that late when she woke up.

"I've never told anyone most of what you just heard." She hoped he'd understand that it meant he shouldn't tell anyone either. To her relief, he nodded. He also seemed incredibly overwhelmed.

"I'm sure my father will ask what happened, if he hasn't already. You can spare him the details if it would make you more comfortable."

"Your father doesn't care about the details of my return. Just that I've returned. He can reestablish civility with my father now that I'm back. Balon can have his only heir back. This situation benefits everyone, but me. Ned plans on keeping me here." She said it with as much disdain as she could fit into one sentence. The look on Robb's face told her that he had planned the same thing.

She could hear voices in the hallway. Six pairs of ears perked up from her bed.

Winterfell was waking up.

"Give yourself time to heal, Amely." His simple statement annoyed her, but she'd never show it. She was about to reinform of just how long she intended on staying here when she realized she didn't have anywhere else to go. The Riverlands and The North were out of the question.

Dorne? Maybe the years of wearing layer after layer of clothes had an adverse affect on her. Amely could see herself in a society that prided themselves on being sexually liberal. She smiled at her own thoughts. If Robb's face gave anything away, it's that he wasn't expecting Amely to smile.

"Thank you, Robb, for your concern. But it's unnecessary. I can take care of myself. You look like you need more help than I do," she raised a hand to his messy hair as she said it. He nuzzled her hand as she lowered it down the side of his face. He trapped it between his cheek and his raised shoulder. Blue Tully eyes looked at her with intense emotion.

"I can't believe you're back. You could tell me every detail of your life away and it still wouldn't feel like you're here. May I tell you about Winterfell since you left?" She noticed that he was using "since you left" instead of "since you disappeared". Neither of them were really an accurate statement as to what happened, but she appreciated that he was being delicate.

"I'd love to. Have the Starks kept producing little red-headed babies?" she raised an eyebrow at his flustered expression. Apparently talking about his parent's sex life wasn't something he enjoyed. She would have to remember that for teasing.

They continued talking for another hour before Maester Luwin came back to the room. Robb had told her everything about Winterfell. Ned and Catelyn Stark really had been busy. Ned Stark had five trueborn children, and Jon. The two girls, Sansa and Arya, could not be more opposite. Robb claimed that Arya reminds him and his mother of herself. Amely smiled at the thought of another young girl to give the Starks hell.

Although Robb spoke about her with fondness, he clearly didn't have the same love for Sansa as he did for Arya. She sounded lovely, honestly, but she wasn't the type of girl that Amely had ever associated with. They may not get along if Sansa was as intense as her mother. The girl must've been the one who decorated her room. The colors and flowers were also lovely, but not her personality. Amely knew that Sansa would be the hardest to befriend in Winterfell.

He spoke with a special fondness for the two youngest boys, Bran and Rickon. Bran was supposedly wise beyond his years, but he had a climbing problem. Robb had actually used the word problem. Amely considered it a talent - one that she would love to have. Rickon was just a small child, only three. But apparently, he craved Robb's attention more than he wanted his father's. She smiled at that. She was happy for the family. Catelyn had always wanted loads of beautiful Stark children.

After describing his siblings, Robb began pointing to puppies and listing names. Ned allowed his children to keep the pups as pets. They just had to train them. That was definitely a situation she'd have to deal with. If she could warg into any of them, she was going to take them with her. Direwolves aren't pets for noble little lords and ladies. What protection do they need? She would let it go until she could speak to Lord Stark himself.

They continued talking about Winterfell for awhile after he finished telling her about his siblings. She'd just readjusted her chest in her bandages when Maester Luwin reentered the room. Robb blushed deeply and she laughed. Luwin asked her a few questions before he asked her to disrobe.

Amely had to demand that Robb go to sleep after leaving her room. He said he would, but she wasn't sure if he actually would. He didn't seem like he would be good at lying, especially if he had any trace of Stark in him. He kissed her hand before leaving, and scooped the grey wolf from her lap. He then nodded to Luwin. She couldn't decide what that meant.

Robb quietly shut the door behind him.

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**Just a note: I'm sorry that this chapter is mostly the two of them catching up. A chapter like this had to happen eventually. The next chapter should be better. It'll be between Robb and Ned about Amely's future. I'm excited to write it. **

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the locations or characters in this work, except for Amely. She is mine – the rest is GRRM. **

**Enjoy!**

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**CHAPTER 8 – ROBB'S POV**

Robb felt nauseous.

He had every intention of going to bed after speaking with Amely. It was clear that she was going to be fine. That took an immense weight off his shoulders. With that weight gone, all he had was his exhaustion.

Lifting his feet to walk required intense concentration on his part. Grey Wind was squirming in his arms - he'd nearly dropped the animal twice. It was all too much. Robb immediately straightened himself when he found his father in the corridor outside his room.

There was only one thing that Ned could be there to discuss - Amely's future.

"_She's a dead woman." _Robb's internal cynic greeted him.

That made him nauseous.

Robb hadn't really thought about what he'd say to his father if any conversation were to happen. He figured Ned would inform him of her future after making the decision. She'd only been awake for a few hours. There was no way his father had made a decision already.

"Father," Robb greeted, "Is everything alright?" He opened the door to his room and dropped Grey Wind to the floor. He grabbed a shirt from his bed and quickly closed the door behind him. Grey Wind barked.

"_Of course nothing is alright. Are you stupid? He's not here to ask about the weather." _

"There was a raven from King's Landing. We'll discuss it in my chamber." And so they walked. It felt like the singularly longest walk of Robb's entire life. He became more nervous with every step.

They passed everyone's rooms, including Amely's again. He briefly heard her and Luwin laughing.

"_About how pathetic you are."_

He disregarded it. If he was forced to be awake, he'd rather be awake with her – laughing.

She should be here for this conversation. Robb considered asking his father to stop, but Ned picked up the pace and he could barely keep up as it was.

His father continued at his brisk pace through the stoned walls of Winterfell. Robb ran his hand along a wall to feel the warmth there. The Great Keep had been built on top of natural hot springs. Scalding water flowed through the walls and heated the whole castle. He found comfort in the warmth.

As they approached Ned's study, Robb wanted to melt into the wall. He didn't know if he had the mental strength to handle this. His father had said that the raven was from King's Landing. That could only mean that he had told King Robert about her return. Amely was either leaving or a prisoner here, and neither would make him happy.

"_He could still execute her, you know. She is a trespassing wildling." _

The thought hurt, but it wasn't worth entertaining. It was the worst case scenario possible. Ned cared too much for the girl to kill her.

"_He could exile her, if he felt like it. Back to the Iron Islands with her." _

Robb willed the voice to shut up.

His father opened the large wooden door and ushered his son in. His mother was waiting inside.

"Good morning, my love. Sit down."

Robb waited for his father to take his seat before he did. Once he sat, the nausea really kicked in.

"The raven came weeks ago. It brought grievous news - news that I needed to discuss with your mother before you." Robb nodded, trying to decipher what his father meant by "grievous news".

"Jon Arryn is dead. A fever took him." Robb hadn't seen that coming at all.

"I am so sorry, father. I know what he meant to you." Robb meant that genuinely. He'd only met Jon Arryn once or twice, but the love between the man and his father was obvious.

His mother chimed in. "The raven brought more news. The King rides for Winterfell."

"He wouldn't ride this far north unless.." Robb was shocked. King Robert intended for his father to be the new Hand of the King. His mother nodded. She looked particularly miserable.

"I'm going to say yes. Your mother and I have already discussed it."

His mother interrupted. "I don't want it but-" His father continued.

"King Robert will not take no for an answer. He's bringing the whole lot with him - Cersei, the children, and maybe a hundred knights. He would be humiliated if I refused him. I haven't a choice." Robb took a minute to consider what his father was saying. Ned Stark would be leaving in a few short weeks, making Robb the official Lord of Winterfell. He ran his fingers through his hair. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about Amely.

"Have you told the King about Amely? She thinks he'll want to send her back to the Iron Islands. I think she's right. He won't care about the fate of a young girl. After everything I've heard about him.. He will only care about keeping the heir of the islands with an ally. Amely doesn't want that for herself." Robb could feel himself bristling. His father was likely to get mad at his childish behavior. Catelyn laid a hand on his shoulder to calm him. He couldn't believe when his father let out a genuine laugh.

"Believe me, Robb. She's made her disdain for civilized life very clear to me. I've been considering her situation and there aren't any options that will make the both of you happy. There's something that your mother suggested, which I need to talk to you about." Robb's heart was pounding in his chest. Catelyn had loved Amely when she was a child. If she had suggested this option, it couldn't be the worst. He turned to look at her. She spoke quietly.

"A marriage between the two of you."

Robb couldn't believe what she had said. He looked to his father for validation. Ned nodded. Robb was ready to stand and yell. Common sense got the better of him.

His father made his argument.

"Balon could have his only heir back and an alliance with our family, you would have a wife that you already care for - a beautiful one at that, and it would please the King. As you can't be the Lord of Winterfell without a wife, it solves a number of problems." Honestly, Robb hadn't heard that much. This wasn't what he wanted. He obviously wanted Amely, but not this way. She was going to feel more trapped than ever.

"I refuse." It was as simple as that. Robb refused, shaking his head quickly. His mother moved to her place behind his father's desk. Ned's eyes were sorrowful.

"Robb... We've considered a marriage between you and a Frey girl or a Karstark girl. We've contemplated almost every major Northern house there is. Eventually a love could form between you and any woman. But can you honestly tell me that you don't already love Amely? Can you honestly tell me you'd rather marry a stranger?" Catelyn knew her son too well. She understood that Robb would rather marry Sansa's handmaiden than a total stranger. Robb sighed.

"So you've told the King? She can't run if he knows she's alive."

"I haven't yet told the King about her return. It won't please him if he discovers I let the daughter of Balon Greyjoy slip through my fingers a second time. Looking the other way isn't an option anymore. If you consent, then I have to tell him everything." Ned had a strong point. Amely was going to be a captive – at one house or another.

"Father, she's going to escape the Iron Islands the second she returns." Robb knew it didn't help the argument against their marriage, but he felt his father should know.

"Then she'll stay in Winterfell - either as a prisoner or a happy wife. You can make her happy here, Robb. You will make her happy." Ned was right about most of it. Amely wouldn't like it. Robb didn't like it. But it seemed to be the only option.

"So that's it, then? That's her only option – being saddled to me for the rest of her life." His father nodded. Robb sighed.

"I'd like to be the one to tell her. She deserves that much. Are you sure the King will agree to it?" His father nodded again. "Winterfell is having a wedding then." Catelyn hurried to stand before him. One soft hand clasped his own.

"Sansa and I will organize everything. I know this isn't exactly what you wanted, so you shouldn't have to worry about anything. We'll need time though. The King will be here by then. It will have to be a splendid affair." Catelyn beamed with pride at her last sentence. There was one benefit that his father had forgot to mention. Catelyn still got to throw her son an expensive wedding feast. Robb almost rolled her eyes at her. He hid it with a smirk.

"Thank you, mother." He squeezed her hand lightly. Robb looked to his father. "I don't know how to tell her. I can't formally ask her because she'll say no. I can't force her into it because she'll resent me." Catelyn smiled lightly.

"Just talk to her, Robb. She'll learn to love you. I know she will. Any woman would." Robb knew she was speaking from experience. Catelyn was never meant to be married to his father. She was betrothed to his late uncle Brandon, before he died in war. Ned became the Lord of Winterfell and married his mother. They eventually learned to love each other. Of course, Lady Catelyn Tully has always been a noble, delicate lady - never an unrestricted wildling.

Robb really had no idea what to do. If the wedding was just a few weeks away, then he shouldn't wait until the day before to discuss it with her. But he couldn't do that to her so soon after waking up. It would overwhelm her. The timing was off.

And how was he supposed to ask? He had always hoped that he would fall in love with a beautiful woman and ask her to marry him in the Godswood. He knew it was just a fantasy, but he hoped his parents would help make it happen. Now he was to marry the perfect girl and she had no intention of ever loving him.

He felt his mother's soft hands run through his hair. He closed his eyes at the comfort. He opened them to find Catelyn studying his face. She looked concerned.

"You look exhausted, my love. You should get some sleep. Think on what you're going to tell her." She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Her nails grazed through his facial hair. The act lessened his anxiety. Ned stood from his seat at the desk. Robb stood as well. He felt like he just signed a binding contract. His parents headed to the door.

"I'll see you for dinner then." They both nodded – Catelyn offered a slight smile.

Robb was soon left alone in the room. He supposed that he had nothing to do but sleep now. Just when he thought his mind was free of stress, his entire world was uprooted again. Sleep sounded amazing, but there was too much on his mind for anything of quality.

The walk took Robb passed Amely's room again. He couldn't hear anything from outside the room. The urge to burst in and tell her almost overwhelmed him. He had no idea how he was going to keep it a secret for more than a few days.

He entered his room to find Grey Wind curled into a ball in the bed. The pup acknowledged his master before yawning and falling back asleep. The sight brought Robb back to the point of exhaustion. He stripped off his breeches and shirt, climbing into his bed with only underclothes. All his stressful thoughts melted away as he drifted to sleep.

It was the hardest sleep of his life.


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and no one, except for Amely. The rest is GRRM.**

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**Chapter 9 - Amely's POV**

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"Go on, your father is watching. And your mother." She heard the arrow loose and thunk into wood, not the hay target. Robb and Jon laughed at their little brother. Even Rickon giggled. Their lord-father chided from the balcony above.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Amely was, but she let the comment slide for the sake of stealth. "Keep practicing. Go on." Robb set Bran up with another arrow.

Amely grabbed the small girl's hand and smiled confidently at her.

"Thumb on one side, fingers on the other."

"Don't think too much, Bran." Jon gave poor advice to a child whose parents were watching.

"Relax your bow arm." Robb commanded his younger brother. She rolled her eyes at his "authoritative" voice. These men had no idea how to encourage a child.

"Are you ready?" Arya nodded at her.

"Throw." Amely whispered excitedly. Arya's arm shot before her and released. The small dagger flew between Jon and Bran - hitting the hay target with near exact precision. All three of the boys whipped around to face their attacker. The two girls curtseyed dramatically, for the sake of civility. Arya must've known there would be repercussions as she began to run even before Bran began chasing her. The older Stark boys laughed.

"I thought you two were embroidering with Septa Mordane this morning. Where's Sansa?" Robb realized what they'd done without her answering. "I suppose she'll be screeching about your truancy soon then. You're a bad influence on my sister." He nudged her before going to collect an arrow lodged in a barrel. She smiled.

In truth, Amely knew she was a bad influence on the little Stark girl - if lady-like habits were something to desire. The two had met when Arya came to retrieve her pup from the sickroom. She was more than possessive over Nymeria. She even called Amely a wildling after accusing her of theft. That was the boundary crossed. Amely's yelling had left quite the impression on the little Stark girl's mind.

Her secret had also left quite the impression. Arya was being nosy when Amely happened to be feeling cooperative. She told the younger Stark about her ability to warg. It was told on the condition that Arya would tell no one. Naturally, she wanted to learn how. When the lesson took more than 25 minutes, Arya became impatient and decided that she couldn't do it. Amely agreed to show her how to master daggers instead.

They had been inseparable ever since.

Of course, some of that inability to separate was not by choice. Lady Catelyn was kind enough to enroll Amely in lessons with the Septa. It was a kind gesture, if she'd been interested in the lessons 12 years ago. She dreaded attending them now more than ever. Arya felt the same.

The two had spent all morning - every morning listening to Septa Mordane compliment Sansa's work with corners and details and blah-blah-blah.

"Sansa's work is as pretty as she is." Blah.

"She has such fine, delicate hands." Blah.

"Arya has the hands of a blacksmith." Blah.

Arya would be scolded for poor work and Amely would receive eye rolls. The Septa didn't give much attention to her, not that she wanted it.

The fun really began when Arya started her lessons with daggers. That was two weeks ago. In that time, Arya had nearly perfected her stance and her precision was excellent. All the encouragement she needed from Amely was the question, "Do you think Sansa could throw like that?" It gave Arya the boost of confidence she needed.

They had staged this little trick yesterday before their lessons. Most of Winterfell was asleep, which meant the training-yard was definitely vacant. It only took half an hour of practicing before Arya could hit the target from twenty paces. Another and she was hitting the middle of the target with ease.

They figured that they should show the Stark family just what lessons with Ser Rodrick Cassel had really bought them. It was only a bonus when they got to the courtyard to find Robb and Jon training Bran.

She looked up to see Ned and Catelyn discussing something with Ser Rodrick and Theon. Amely briefly hoped Rodrick had seen the spectacle, but the serious look on his face told her that he had more concerning matters to attend to. Theon was standing next to him, looking more miserable than ever.

If the Starks had made a decision regarding her future, they certainly hadn't consulted her little brother about it. It was becoming clear with time that either Balon didn't want his heir back, or Theon wasn't allowed to leave.

The thought gave her hope. He stays - she leaves. She could escape the islands and be free once again. Like it never happened.

The reunion of the two had been brief and unemotional. Theon had only just been born when she left, and it was clear that the boy didn't care for her. Robb mentioned jealousy, but she couldn't imagine why. Amely figured that he'd probably put the pieces together the same way she did. He's an immature child and she deemed him not worthy of her attention.

Jon waved an arrow shaft in her face, forcing her to refocus her attention.

"When did you find the time to teach Arya? Between lessons or truancies?" Robb approached them then. She winked at Jon.

"The mornings - practically the break of dawn."

"It must have been difficult for you to leave my brother in bed, then."

Amely put her hand on Robb's arm and let it slide to his hand as she spoke.

"Oh, Jon, it was near impossible." Amely could feel Robb tensing up under her hand. "He is so warm - it almost makes up for that monstrous snorting problem. He does it in his sleep. I haven't gotten a night's sleep in ages!"

Amely let out a terrible snorting noise, like a hog, before laughing hysterically. Robb ripped his hand from hers - looking ready to fight her as he did. Jon was almost crying from laughter.

Rumors had flown around Winterfell since her arrival. Arya was blunt enough to tell her every single one of them. The older citizens believed that Amely Greyjoy had returned, the younger believed she was a savage, ruthless wildling. Some even believed she was the second bastard child of Ned Stark.

Her personal favorite was that Robb Stark had fallen for the wildling savage and had taken her into his bed. Arya came to her the second she'd heard that one. Ever since, it had been a running joke between Amely and Jon. They teased him whenever an opportunity arose.

In reality, her and Robb hadn't been allowed to sleep in the same room since she woke up. It had been a bit of a controversy for a time. Catelyn and Luwin eventually decided that it was inappropriate. Robb had apparently seen her naked chest hundreds of times, but sleep was inappropriate. He did allow her to sleep with Grey Wind though. He didn't know she had spent every night for two weeks warging into the direwolf.

After a moment of flustered syllables flying from his mouth, Robb turned and stormed away from them. Amely chased after him while Jon stayed to collect the stray arrows. She lightly touched his arm when she caught up to him.

"No, no, Robb, wait. I shouldn't have told you I've been leaving early. That was cruel. We can cuddle all morning tomorrow." She winked at him. He grinned slightly.

"That's only for when we're married, my heart. I would hate to dishonor you." He winked right back.

She never understood where all the love and marriage banter came from. It started the second she woke up and hadn't stopped for a moment since. She enjoyed it though. Flustering men made her happy.

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They continued walking through the muddy courtyard. The two of them had been taking little walks through Winterfell every day. She was slowly getting reacquainted with the castle. Robb introduced her to the new staff at Winterfell and he took her through the markets. She loved meeting the new and greeting the old, but it was all only temporary. She couldn't form attachments with any of these people.

Amely gently clasped her hands in front of her like a good little lady. He smiled.

"Would you ride with me this evening, my lady? We could sup in the Godswood." This was something that Robb had asked of her at least three times already. She would agree, they would ride together, then he would shut down the second they arrived - like he was nervous. She loved using his own nervousness against him, but it was getting old. And the usually protective Catelyn had absolutely no problem with them missing every supper and spending so much time alone together. It was all very strange.

"My lord, you flatter me. Do you plan on talking to me this time?" She bumped one shoulder into his. He chuckled nervously. It annoyed her. They continued walking in comfortable silence until they arrived outside her door. The Starks had given her a large room down the hall from the other children. She was closer to the Stark children than Theon and Jon were.

She entered her room and left the door open behind her, hoping he'd follow.

This was a dance they did after every walk. Robb was gracious enough to go out of his way to walk her back, but too honorable to enter her chamber. She would go inside and continue the conversation. He would say his goodbyes from the door and leave - effectively ending whatever conversation they may have been enjoying. It was sweet, but wildly annoying.

When he didn't follow, she turned and walked back to his place at her door. She stopped at arm's length away.

"You know, my lord. You don't need permission to come in. It's your right as the Lord of Winterfell." She stepped closer after every sentence, until she was pressed against him on her toes. She leaned in to whisper. "Please come in, love." She kissed the jaw line right below his ear. Robb's hands grabbed her arms.

She thought he'd push her away from him or at least threaten to 'dishonor' her. Amely pulled away to see his eyes closed and his jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes were stormy blue when he reopened them. His grip on her arms tightened.

"Seven hells, it was just a joke. Let me go." She squirmed in his grasp. When he didn't let her go, she raised an eyebrow and stared defiantly. "And just what do you think you're doing?"

She hadn't expected an answer, just a reaction. He gave her one - just not the one she expected.

He did let her go, which was nice. Amely hoped she wouldn't have to hit a Stark that day. But they didn't stay separated for long. She took a step away - only to be retrieved again a moment later. He moved a hand to her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair. His gaze was annoyingly deep. She knew where this was going and she nearly rolled her eyes at his stare.

Amely bit her lip and released before he moved a thumb over it. His gaze turned from longing to questioning. She did roll her eyes that time, but nodded. The honorable Starks.

Robb lightly kissed the place he'd just thumbed.

He retracted for a moment before apparently deciding he wanted more. Amely hadn't thought there would be anything in the kiss for her, but Robb was good at this. He lightly bit her lower lip, causing her to shudder. He moved one hand from her face to her neck, and continued down.

Amely warmed at his touch, but she shouldn't encourage this behavior. She let their passionate kissing continue for another moment before she placed a hand on his chest and gave a gentle push.

"Robb.. Don't do that again. I can't let you grow any more attached to me than you already are. I'm leaving soon. Before the King arrives."

They both heard distant voices in the hall behind them. He pushed her further into the room - a little too forcefully - and closed the door. The wound on her side was nearly healed, but she still winced when she moved too quickly.

"Don't be cross. You knew it would happen this way." He was still facing the closed door when he pounded on it with a fist. "Are you mad because I'm rejecting you? Stomp around like a high little lord who didn't get his way. Fine. But you will leave me out of your temper tantrum. Open the door."

"No."

"Open the door, Robb." She nearly growled it out. He turned to face her - his finger already pointed at her face.

"You aren't leaving. I don't know how you haven't figured it out yet."

"Have you lost your mind? Open it. Now." She said it as a warning, but realized that he meant the broader situation. She scrutinized him further. "What do you mean?"

"You know my father won't let you go. You aren't stupid. And you know the King would want either both the Greyjoys or just Theon in Winterfell. My father chose for him. You're staying here."

It took every fiber of her being to remain even slightly calm.

"I will leave here. I will run."

"Not if we're married."

"You would trap me here like that? Do I seem like the type who will happily perform her duties as a wife?"

"I don't have a choice. My father has declared this the only option. You aren't leaving Winterfell."

She hit him. He held her wrist tightly as she warned him.

"Let me go. I won't tell you again." He obeyed her edged words.

"We can work this out, Amely. You will be an influential noble lady. Your husband will be - I will be the Warden of the North and the Lord of Winterfell. Appreciate what you've been given."

"I don't even want to be in the North - let alone in your stupid castle with your stupid family as your sheltered wife. You're everything I hate and more." She shoved his chest as hard as she could with every sentence. He eventually hit the door, but he let her continue pushing.

"Leave." She reached for the door handle behind him. He grabbed her hand before it could open the door.

"No."

"Leave right now." He refused again.

She continued to yell at him, ignoring how her vision blurred around the sides.

"Is this what you'll do to me as your wife? Lock me away in a chamber when I misbehave? Let me tell you -." Amely heard Robb call her name before she fell.

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**Endnote:** This chapter was nearly 5,600 words in the original posting of this piece. I decided to split it in two, meaning that some of you may know what the next chapter will hold for our main characters. If not, then enjoy the ride!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I only own Amely as a character, and no one else. The entire ASOIAF universe belong to GRRM.**

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Amely's POV continued**

The feeling of warging is very distinct - like falling into a hole that ends in another place. Alys told her to call it "slipping". There really wasn't any other way to describe it.

When she was younger and upset, her vision would blur and then she'd slip into Luna. Before she arrived at her new destination, she'd see the mental cord between her and the direwolf. She'd follow it, and there was Luna's world. This was different. This time, Amely saw six cords. She felt compelled towards one, so she followed it.

* * *

In her defense, Amely would have had more control over her destination if all the wolves would let her in.

She had tried slipping into all six of their minds at least once. Warging into Nymeria was the most difficult. She was as stubborn as Arya. To properly warg into an animal, they must be accepting. Nymeria was not. The same could be said for Shaggydog. Rickon was too little to properly train the animal, so it was the wildest of the bunch. The pup needed training before she could work with it.

Lady and Grey Wind were the most gracious of the lot. It took little concentration on her part to slip into one of them. Ghost allowed it, but she always felt more like a passenger than a driver. He was strong-willed, like his owner. Bran's unnamed wolf was highly protective of the young boy and it showed. He would take back over if he felt any danger to Bran.

It took her a moment to establish where she had ended up. She blinked to find Arya in her chamber, packing clothes into a trunk. Septa Mordane was there, looking skeptical. The young girl was obviously frustrated. She must have landed in Nymeria.

"Fold them again, child. You'll ruin your dresses if you keep trying to stuff them in there. The ladies of King's Landing do not wear such wrinkled gowns." The Septa criticized.

"I don't care what the ladies of King's Landing wear. I don't care what anyone wears. I hate these stupid dresses and I hate my father for dragging me away." Amely would smirk at the girl if she could. Arya was practically the same person as her own younger self. The Septa didn't approve.

"Arya Stark!" Septa Mordane continued scolding the young girl.

Amely stood to leave the room. Nymeria would be mad that she was forced to abandon Arya, but that didn't matter to her. She knew that Robb was probably on his way to Maester Luwin right now and she had no intention of having her secret exposed to the entire Stark family.

* * *

Arya's room was only a few doors down from her own, so it didn't take long for her to arrive outside the closed door. She could hear Robb frantically repeating her name from inside the room. She heard him take the few steps to the door before he opened it and looked down at her. Amely noticed her own body laid out on the bed. That was kind of him.

"Arya! Come get-." He stopped yelling when she growled. Nymeria was an average-sized thing for her age so her growling wasn't intimidating enough.

Amely bit Robb's calf as hard as her little jaws would allow, immediately regretting the blood she tasted. She tried dragging him inside by his now wounded leg, but he fought her off with a light kick. She trotted to her human body and laid down next to it. Amely's eyes were rolling around in her head, only the whites showing. She'd seen herself before, but the weirdness never failed.

Amely howled. Robb looked fit to hit her, but the howl visibly shocked him. She slipped out of Nymeria and into her own body. The last thing she saw through Nymeria's eyes was her own body jolting forward.

* * *

Amely jolted upright and shook her head. The rapid slipping had made her light-headed. She looked up to find Robb's shocked gaze.

"I'm going to get Luwin. Don't move." Amely was shocked to hear Nymeria growl at him. Nymeria should have been bitter, not protective. She smiled and scratched the wolf behind an ear.

"I'm fine." She comforted. Nymeria calmed, got off the bed, and trotted towards the door. She let out a small growl as she passed Robb - a warning. Amely got off the bed with her.

"Are you okay?" Robb reached out to support her, but she didn't accept his hand. She held onto a bedpost until she regained her balance. She nodded towards the leg she bit, with mild concern.

"Will you let me look at that?" He shook his head.

"Can you explain what just happened?" She shook her head. They were both too stubborn for this game.

"I'm fine. Will you stop asking me questions? Answer some." She stood up from relying on the bedpost and raised an eyebrow. Robb groaned at her denial of his questions.

"You paled, then you fell. Your eyes.." He turned away from her. "I deserve an answer. What happened?" Amely ignored his ridiculous question for the second time and took a step closer to him. She pointed in the direction of Arya's room.

"Why is your sister packing for King's Landing? Is there something else that you should be telling me?" She would be persistent until he answered. He turned back to her, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.

"You know the King is coming. The Hand is dead and he needs replacing. My father can't very well fill that position from Winterfell. Sansa and Arya could learn from court. They are going with him."

She felt a sting at the news of losing both Ned and Arya.

"Why am I just hearing of this?"

"It is my turn. How do you know Nymeria bit me? You were..out." Robb was smarter than he looked, but she wasn't patient enough to alternate questions.

"You limped when you turned." She lied.

"No, I did not"

"Yes. You did. Why didn't you tell me that we were to be married before now? Surely your father made that decision before today. And why didn't you tell me he was leaving?"

"I wasn't allowed to tell you any of it." She could tell he was lying by the hand he ran through his hair.

"On whose orders? We're meant to be married in mere weeks. You were meant to tell me before now, I know it. Do not lie to me, Robb Stark. Why didn't Arya say anything?"

"I told her not to. She wanted to tell... I wanted to tell you."

"You did a fine job of waiting." Robb was clearly becoming more angered with her at every sentence.

"I did a fine job of securing you a comfortable life. You will marry me and be happy. As it is the will of my father, the Warden of the North who acts in the interest of the King, it would be treason for you to leave me. It's punishable by death, should the Lord of Winterfell decide it." She smirked at his threat. She also questioned why he was suddenly so defensive.

"Now, tell me. What happened to you? Does that performance happen often or only when you're being childish? You are most often behaving childishly, I suppose."

"Nymeria and I are bonded, you know. I could call her back. I could call Grey Wind, Ghost, any one of them if I desired." He didn't seem impressed with her threat. She stepped closer, nearly able to touch him again.

"You should know how sweet your blood tastes. Gods, Robb," she threw in a shudder for effect, "I've tasted some pretty amazing things as a direwolf. Everything tastes better at the top of the animal kingdom. But there will never be anything like human blood. And your blood - I would kill for more."

She understood that she must look deranged, but her little speech got the job done. Robb Stark looked more scared than confused. He was desperately trying to mask it. She put a smile back on her face.

"And whatever pathetic threat you're trying to formulate in your head, lose it. If you would be so kind as to leave my chamber, or you're in for a scary story." Amely was being dramatic - she knew that, but there was a point to get across. Robb nodded.

"I will listen."

"Well, it would seem I'm a warg, my betrothed. Old Nan ever tell you about us? I can slip into the minds of animals - control them, use them as I need. It's magic, really. It'll be useful for when you mistreat me. The second those direwolves are old enough to kill, you will wish you never trapped me here."

"Stop."

"Nymeria's a loyal one. As is Grey Wind. You can bet he'd choose me over you. He'd tear you to pieces on command. How's that feel? I bet it hurts. Face it - I'm stronger than you'll ever be."

Robb grabbed her by the shoulders then, and forced her against the wall behind her. She hated the surprised squeak that left her mouth. His elbows pinned her arms in place while his hands gripped her wrists.

"You're stronger than me? Aye, I can see that." She tried jerking her way out before he tightened his grip. He had her firmly. "Stop trying."

"Robb."

"You'll learn to love me." Robb whispered with a certain sadness. It was becoming clear that even he felt stuck in this situation. Amely's heart softened slightly, making her feel weak. His grip on her wrists loosened, allowing her fingers to caress his hands.

"Please. Let me go. Open the door. We can sort this out later."

"I can't lose you again." Robb's sudden confession shocked her. His gaze met hers - his eyes drowning in unfallen tears. Amely could hold a grudge like the best of them, but something about the Tully blue eyes staring made her feel different.

Amely had no idea how the two of them had gotten there. A moment ago, she wanted to kill the man before her. Something had changed in the last ten seconds.

On instinct, she leaned forward from her flexibly trapped position and kissed him. He retracted immediately, which gave her a moment to better consider her actions. Maybe it was the adrenaline of fighting him, maybe it was Robb's powerful stance. Amely felt undeniably attracted to him, and she wasn't going to waste another moment.

"What are you -?"

Amely shook her head quickly to interrupt him.

"I don't want to think. Neither do you." This time, she gave him the questioning look. It felt odd, to be the one asking for permission.

Robb kissed her hard then - smashed his lips into hers, really. This was harder and faster than the first, but she kept up. If it would end his incessant questioning and rude statements, she would kiss him all day - not that it would be much of a burden.

It didn't take much to continue Robb's actions. She writhed against his body until he moved his lips to her neck, causing her to shudder at the sensation. Amely brought her hands to his hair, encouraging his behavior on. His lips were doing exquisite things and she hadn't been touched in a long time. Her skin warmed. He growled against her rosy chest.

Robb moved from her neck to the parts of her chest that were exposed. Honestly, she hoped he'd tear this terrible gown right off her body. Catelyn had passively laid out eight drab, wool dresses on her bed, in hopes that she'd wear one. Amely wanted to burn them all, but that seemed inconsiderate.

Amely quickly moved to unlace the strings that held the top half of the dress together. Robb assaulted the new flesh the second it was made visible. She had to practically yank his head away in order to remove the second layer of underclothes she had to wear. He returned after taking the time to stare at her entirely exposed chest.

The laces on Robb's shirt were already undone, so she began pulling at it as well. Robb removed his mouth from her chest to pull the shirt off, returning to her lips the second it was gone. He was eager, almost too eager, but she managed. She knew her lips would be swollen the next day.

They separated again, only to tear at the lower halves of each other's clothing. Robb's breeches were loose enough that she could slide her hand into the front and caress him. He growled at her touch. She wasn't entirely inexperienced in this, so she did what she knew. It was only a minute before he had to slide her hand away to keep from finishing.

Robb soon became impatient with the buttons that held the dress to her hips and asked to rip the dress away. Amely was delighted by the idea. Once the dress and her underclothes were removed, Robb moved his hand to caress her inner thighs. The look he gave her nearly broke her heart. He was questioning - again - but he looked more loving than anyone had ever been with her.

Amely nodded, which Robb responded to with the biggest smile that she'd ever seen. She felt his hand slide up to meet the heated skin between her thighs. She was humiliated by the chuckle he let out - laughing at how wet she already was. Amely didn't have the focus to consider how he'd know what that meant.

It only took a few strokes of his fingers to have her just as eager as he was. Robb was inexperienced, but he managed. Amely didn't have to wonder if she was good. Robb wouldn't let her touch him a second time. She giggled when he refused her offer to help remove his breeches as he knew she'd caress him.

They continued kissing while stumbling to the bed, occasionally stopping to giggle at their own clumsiness.

The act itself had been a rather short affair.

Robb firmly placed himself between her legs and slid the length of himself against her sex. It inexplicably drove her wild.

Amely reached between them to caress him one last time before slipping him inside of her. They both moaned at the contact. She raised her legs to rest on his hips as he began to move within her. The action allowed him deeper, and elicited a moan from him. She hid her smile with a bite to his shoulder.

Robb took that as a sign to thrust harder and faster, turning their lovemaking into an act borne of angst. Amely was ecstatic. She began moving her hips in time with his thrusts. It earned her another moan.

Robb's pelvic bone was perfectly aligned with the most sensitive part of her body. She went sailing over the edge with a few intense thrusts. His finish followed shortly after.

They laid in breathless silence for minutes after.

Amely noticed that her thoughts weren't as malicious as they previously were. Robb was apparently good enough to make her forget her grudges. She could feel the anger slowly trickling from her body. It was gone when Robb snuggled behind her.

She had no idea what that would mean.

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Endnote: I know that the "sex" scene in this wasn't really much for a sex scene. I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter due to external circumstances. I basically lost touch with my characters and it took awhile to get some of that connection back. I promise that the next time I include some smut, it will be more-detailed and all-around better written. Bear with me, guys. I'll bring this all together eventually.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: GRRM owns the universe and all characters, except for Amely. She's mine.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 11 - Robb's POV**

Amely had fallen asleep soon after their lovemaking had ended. Her contented sighs were the only thing keeping Robb from drowning in guilt. She had been entirely willing, and he was more than elated. But he had ruined her. They were to be married in the Godswood in the front of the entire royal family, and he couldn't contain himself for those mere weeks.

Robb also considered what Amely had said about warging. Of course, Old Nan had told him about people who could meld into animals. He just hadn't believed the elderly woman. Now, he was falling in love with a mythical being. And a strong one, apparently. She was almost too little to be a threat, and she was also the biggest threat to himself.

Amely distracted him by wiggling into his lap in her sleep. His body reacted in the expected way, making his level of guilt rise infinitely higher. He counted down from one hundred to calm himself.

He desperately wanted to fall asleep with her, but he could not stop thinking. The honorable thing to do would be to wait until their wedding night to continue sleeping with her. Robb knew he wouldn't be able to wait, not with how much joy she had brought him tonight.

He sat in silence for what felt like hours before Amely rolled into his chest. She kissed the spot above his heart and murmured something quietly. He moved a piece of sandy blonde hair away from her face to find her smiling. Her eyes remained closed.

"Did you sleep?" Robb could feel her breath against his chest. She scooted her body closer and entwined her legs with his. He moved to accommodate her. When she was settled, he wrapped an arm around her back.

He lied. For all she knew, he was just as content to disregard their problems as she was.

"You're less charming when you're lying." She nuzzled her head against his chest anyway. "I dreamt of the pools. Can we go there today?"

Robb smiled at her memory of the pools.

A dozen natural hot springs could be found in several hidden courtyards in Winterfell. The steaming water was vented through the walls of the castle and used to heat the structure. The heated stoned walls were comforting in the summer, but the difference between life and death in the winter.

As children, Robb and Amely had stumbled upon one of these hidden courtyards during an intense game of hide-and-seek with Jon. Robb pushed her into one without thinking, and came to her rescue a moment later. Amely, somehow, had been blessed with the natural ability to swim. Jon found them playing in the steaming water an hour later.

Amely kissed his chest one last time before sliding away and out of the bed. Robb knew he should have stood and began to dress, but he was mesmerized by her. He watched as she bent to pick up her torn dress, only to remember that he'd torn it. His guilt ratcheted higher.

She must have sensed his turmoil, as she turned to him and shrugged. She returned the dress to its spot on the floor and looked for another. Robb's guilt was forgotten when he realized that he'd seen every inch of her in the last five seconds, and she was doing nothing to hide herself. Robb could feel himself hardening at the sight.

"I'm not putting on underclothes, not if we're swimming," Robb nearly groaned at the thought. Amely was going naked, or not at all. She slipped a thick wool dress over her naked form and began lacing the front.

"Well? Are we going? If anything, it's just an excuse to see me naked." Amely argued a good point. Robb stood from the bed, still half-erect from her bending before him. She raised one of those damned eyebrows while blatantly staring at him, causing him to blush intensely.

"Not all of us can be so proud." It sounded more like an accusation than a jest. Luckily, Amely understood what he meant. She put on a look of terrible regret.

"Gods be true, my lord, if I had known you were such a prude, I never would have gone gallivanting about my own chamber, naked, like some common whore. Please forgive me, my lord, please. You must." She stood before him with her hands clasped over her heart and pouted lips. The smile was evident in her eyes.

Robb rolled his eyes and grinned at her, before picking his wool breeches off the floor.

He quickly assembled himself, while Amely made herself look presentable. It was a short walk to the pools, but they could not risk looking disheveled.

Amely peered into the hallway to ensure no one would see before they exited her chamber and went to the hidden courtyard.

* * *

The pools hadn't changed in the slightest since the last time the two of them had been there. Steam rose from the waters and spread about the ground, creating an eerie, haunted feeling. A thousand years of growth remained unattended in the tiny courtyard. The stoned floor had been reduced to rubble with time. The familiarity made Robb smile.

Amely shivered in the doorway next to him. The evening air was chilly.

"It's just as I remembered." Amely seemed more sentimental about this room than any other place in Winterfell.

"Shall we?" Robb extended a hand to her and led the way through the uneven ground. Amely began unlacing the front of her dress with her free hand.

They stopped before the pool and peered in. The water was milky with natural minerals, making the depth unreadable.

Amely let her dress fall to the damp floor, while Robb began undressing himself. She helped unlace the top of his tunic before kissing his cheek and walking to the pool. He desperately wanted her to continue undressing him.

"Did you miss it here?" He asked while taking off the wool tunic. He began unlacing the wool breeches immediately after. Robb was desperate to join her in the water.

"Winterfell may be the northernmost point of the world, for you, but I've seen many things and I've been to many places. None were as beautiful as here." Amely was slowly lowering herself into the steaming water as she spoke. Robb couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight.

Robb joined her once he was naked, and hissed at the extreme temperature. Amely smiled before going under. She returned above and wrung the water from her hair. Her skin steamed in the colder air, making her look more magical than ever.

Once they had both acclimated to the temperature, they relocated to a more shallow end. Robb was able to sit with his upper chest exposed, while Amely sat on her knees. She, apparently, had no problem with having her bare chest exposed. Her position also left her healing wound entirely visible to him. Seeing it this close angered him - nothing that horrifying should be marring her porcelain skin.

They remained in silence until Robb felt compelled to speak.

"I'm sorry this is happening to us… to you. I really am. I wasn't given much of an option. It was marrying me or marrying whichever stranger your father chose. I didn't think that was what you wanted for yourself. Not that you wanted any of this." Robb only hoped she wouldn't retaliate in the way that she had in her chamber. She remained silent, only tensing slightly. Robb took that as a good sign.

"If your father thinks this marriage will mend the relationship between the houses, he's wrong. Balon holds grudges. Every letter he ever wrote me said that he would one day get me back. If that's the only reason this is happening, then it shouldn't." Her tone didn't seem angered, but she remained tense.

"The King and my father have been like brothers for their entire lives. It's likely that he has already told Robert about you and our betrothal. My father believes that King Robert would rather have two Greyjoy children with an ally, than just one. That wasn't feasible unless we were married. Theon could have married Sansa, but I think even you know that would be cruel." She laughed lightly, while sliding her hands across the surface of the water. All tension was gone.

"Sansa deserves better than my brother, you are right. Is that his future then? Theon will stay here in Winterfell until he is married? He won't be happy. He could be the heir to the Iron Islands again." Robb was shocked at her concern for her brother. Theon had been nothing but horrible to his sister since her return. Amely may be hard on the outside, but her concern said a lot about her character.

"The wedding is set for the week of the King's arrival. There is nothing for you or I to worry about. My mother and Sansa are taking care of everything. It will be a splendid affair, since the royal family will be there. I know you'll hate every minute of it." Amely looked disgusted. She rolled her eyes and nodded. They sat in silence for a moment, before she spoke again.

"What's the King like? You said they were like brothers. Is he like Ned?"

"My father and the King were fostered with Jon Arryn when they were young. They grew up best friends, inseparable. Robert soon fell in love with my father's sister, Lyanna. You'll remind him of her. Do you remember the story of Rhaegar and Lyanna?" She nodded. "King Robert killed the crown prince for Lyanna, only to find that she was already dead. Those are the only stories my father will tell you about the King. The honorable ones. Of course, anyone will tell you the rest."

Amely nodded, clearly hoping to hear the rest.

"The news of Lyanna broke him, and soon after he had the rest of the Targaryens killed - including the two youngest babes. My father disagreed with Robert's first royal decree, and the two have been mostly separated since. Except for your father's rebellion, of course."

"Of course." Amely rolled her eyes at the mention of her father's failed rebellion. The girl clearly held no affection for the man. Robb continued.

"My father's stories depict him as the strongest warrior in Westeros - tall-standing and warhammer-wielding. For all I know, he still sees the King this way. I imagine he's grown fat from feasting, and drinking. I hear our King appreciates a good barrel of wine. And I hear that he's not one to keep to one bed. The whores of Winterfell will be rather busy during this visit."

"You talk as though they aren't busy already. I have seen Theon running about Winterfell with that red-headed one almost every day since I arrived. Maybe I need to speak with her, considering my brother hasn't bored yet."

"You need to do no such thing. I promise that I could never become bored of you." She smiled at him, and looked as though she was close to blushing. It would have been the first time she'd ever blushed in front of him.

Amely slid from her spot in the pool to straddle his waist. Robb felt as though he should have refused - at least until their wedding night - but her upright position put her chest inches from his face. He couldn't resist when she bent slightly to stroke him.

Amely leaned forward, nibbled a spot along his jawline, and whispered.

"This is my favorite place in Westeros. Can we come here more often?"

Robb grabbed her hips and let out a groan before answering.

"Whenever you want, my heart. Every minute of every hour of every day, if that's what you desire." He bit his lip to keep from groaning again, while she bit his earlobe.

"What I desire, is you."

With that, Robb moved his hand from her hip to her submerged sex, and moved his mouth to her chest. He kissed the valley between her breasts before taking tender care of each individually. Robb had no way of gauging how wet Amely actually was, but she moaned ecstatically when he slipped a finger inside her. It seemed like good incentive to continue his movements.

Robb knew he was doing well when Amely began moving herself against his hand, while speeding up the stroking of her own. Robb took that as reason to slide another finger into her. He earned himself a moan, while simultaneously moaning himself. She had begun a slight twisting motion on the upstroke, and it had him melting in the steaming water.

Amely removed her hand from his hair, and followed the length of his arm to her sex. There, she pushed his palm into the very front of her sex, and shuddered. She continued grinding herself against his hand, with the pressure of his palm against a small nub, until she moaned so loudly that he had to kiss her to keep her quiet. He tangled a hand into her soft hair and held tight.

Another moment of that and she began to quiver around his fingers. The temptation of feeling her finish around him soon became too much to bear. Robb removed his hand - earning himself an annoyed groan - before he asked for permission. He was delighted when she quickly nodded and moved him to just below her sex.

Amely lowered herself onto his member in a painfully slow manner. The two of them moaned in unison. She allowed herself to adjust before moving her hips in a circular motion, allowing Robb to feel every detail of her. He was entirely tantalized.

Before long, Amely was back to the point she was and moaning even louder. Robb was a quick learner - a fact she was sure to appreciate. He moved one hand from her neck to the point just above where their bodies met, and began rubbing quickly. She immediately tightened around him.

The string of curses she let out were enough incentive to rub faster, and also cover her mouth with his own. He smiled into their kiss as she continued whimpering.

Amely's tight circular motions eventually became erratic gyrating as she began quivering around his member. The water around them began rippling violently. Robb could feel himself losing control as well. His grip on her hair tightened and their kissing became more furious.

An area below his abdomen tightened before giving way, and Amely let out a final high-pitched moan before collapsing against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. She bit at his chest, before giggling, then letting out an exhausted sigh.

They stayed that way for several silent minutes before Robb became worried over their disappearance. He nudged her softly.

"We should get back."

"No, I would rather not. Thank you." She pouted against his chest. Robb laughed at her cuteness before sliding her off of his lap and standing. He offered a hand to help her up.

"We have to, my love. I'm sorry." His regret was sincere. Robb would have gladly stayed in the warm water with her until the coming winter. Amely took his hand and hoisted herself out of the water. He kissed the soft skin before dropping it and allowing her to dress herself.

The two of them headed back to reality without saying a word, ending the day with only a brief kiss in the hallway.


End file.
